#filled with passion above all else. which is why i think these songs might work for these guys pretty well!

[bmpmp3]

and you will listen to my halfway unmixed vocal synth covers. you will. my final message (dies in your arms)

all the virvox guys in voicevox humming! yume no tobira piano ver vsqx by leah ocarina and the instrumental is by 友紀!

[apocalypticgargoyle]

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @little-gremlin-in-the-walls @tinyegg @mintmochiii @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @rat-poisin @alm334 @cdizzlevalntyne @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity

[amygdalagustd]

Kim Namjoon on Identity

Namjoon explores the concept of identity time and time again in his life and in his music. He tends to focus on how different parts of himself might be in conflict with each other, and the tensions and confusion that goes with that experience. People are filled with duality, sometimes to the point that it tears us apart. The question of “who am I?” seems a simple one, but underneath it lies a lot of complexity. Who do I want to be? Who do other people want me to be? How much of my identity is formed by my past? Can I change who I am? Can I be multiple things at the same time? Who is the real me? What does it even mean to be the real me?

The question of “who am I?” seems to both fascinate and terrify Namjoon. In this essay we will tackle the question together as I explore all the different ways that Namjoon contemplates identity in lyrics and interviews.

From his decision to become a rapper in the first place to the struggle of taking care of himself as a world famous idol to the questioning of what having an identity actually means, we will travel through Namjoon’s career and highlight all the moments that he asks himself:

“Who the hell am I?”

It’s no secret that Namjoon was a very intelligent and driven student who got good grades in school. In his earlier lyrics he often writes about the pressure that was put on him to succeed and follow a certain path in life. As someone who was good at studying it was expected of him to prioritize his education above all else. Namjoon fit into that role well, but behind the scenes his heart was longing for music. He discovered rap and decided that he wanted a different path for his life. BTS’s early work is filled with messages of following your dreams and not letting other people decide what type of life you want to live. Namjoon often talked about the struggles of living in between the expectations of those around him and his own desires for his future. Some of those conflicting feelings are expressed in Voice, the intro song to his 2015 mixtape RM:

Straight A student and underground rapper

I occupied myself all day with being graded with meaningless numbers like beef gets graded

I just wanted to succeed

because that’s the only thing I was told by others so much that I almost got sick of it

The mirage called happiness- I thought it would be held there

But, sitting at my desk, I was never happy, not for a single moment

I secretly hid a blank sheet of paper between the pages of my study book without my mom’s knowing

My identity that I wrote down along the sound of drums and bass

The feeling of breathing that is different from that of receiving grade reports

Even when I was the top of my class, my mind was never at ease

Is it absolutely necessary to want something that others want?

I secretly raise the volume of my voice

so that you can know, so that it can reach you

I again raise the volume of my voice

so that you can know, so that it can reach you

He also touches on the subject in Born Singer, which was released in 2013:

To be honest, I was scared that I was to prove myself after talking big

that I, who used to know only pen and book, was then to surprise the world

I dunno, that I and the world’s expectations are too asymmetric,

I was scared that I might betray everyone who trusted me

I stretch my burdened shoulders and step onto the very first stage

BTS and Namjoon will continue to talk about the pressure of society's expectations and the difficulty of following your own path in songs like No More Dream, N.O and School of Tears. Fighting back against the oppressive school system is a huge part of their message and mission in their early career. They ask their fans and themselves to look at the person that they are expected to become and question if that image is in line with their own dreams and desires. Namjoon wrestled with this question himself, and therefore has the experience and passion to guide others who might be struggling with their identity and the identity that is put on them.

Idol and artist

The concept of being an idol vs being an artist is one that comes back often in BTS lyrics. Namjoon is an underground rapper who ended up in a boyband, and the identity of being an idol is one that he has wrestled with quite a bit. Can you be both an idol and an artist? Does becoming an idol mean that you have to give up on being an artist? Does it matter if you call yourself an idol or an artist? Does it matter what other people say about it?

Namjoon mentions this conflicting identity in Awakening on his 2015 mixtape RM:

Every night I fight myself inside me

My heart pounds, and my colleagues stab me in the back

saying I became a cripple after going into a company

Yeah fuck you I’m an idol, yeah yeah i’m an idol

I hated it at one time but now I love to get that title

Unlike some keep denying [their identity] to the end on television,

I now fully accept myself, and I just do me

Whether I’m an idol or an artist- it actually never mattered

The way you guys look at me was what defined me

I was obsessed over titles and hung up on how people described me

Listen to the rap of the guy who became a bit smarter as time passed

Namjoon gets shit for being an idol from the underground rap scene and gets shit for being an artist from the idol scene. He is hovering in between, writing his rap lyrics with the power and authenticity of a hip hop artist while simultaneously dancing and looking like a full fledged boyband member. He responds to this dilemma with unwavering pride, the drive to prove himself and a fuck you attitude. This energy dominates a lot of early BTS music. They are still trying to find their place in the industry while not really knowing where exactly they belong. Songs like the Cyphers and Mic Drop highlight the anger they feel about the mistreatment they face from both sides of the industry while boasting about their accomplishments and pride in who they are. Just like Namjoon in Awakening, Yoongi also often mentions his struggles with the identity of being an idol in his solo work. In Idol, the title track of the 2018 album Love Yourself: Answer, BTS face the subject head on:

You can call me artist

You can call me idol

Or you can call me anything else

I don’t care

I’m proud of it

I’m free

No more irony

Because I’ve been me all the time

You can point your fingers at me, I don’t care at all

Whatever reason you have to denigrate me,

I know what I am

I know what I want

I never gon’ change

I never gon’ trade

Why do you talk loud “blah blah”

I do what I do, so mind your own business

You can’t stop me loving’ myself

Idol is a proud, joyful, wonderfully weird and confident self love anthem. It’s a celebration of who BTS are at their core. In the song, they have accepted all the different aspects of their identity and they don’t feel the need to fit in with just one label. In the future, they will go on to say that BTS’s genre is just BTS, and they see no point in categorizing themselves.

RM and Namjoon

In 2018, BTS released a documentary series called Burn The Stage. The series followed them throughout the Wings tour and was supposed to show a more raw version of them.

In episode 6, Namjoon said:

Being an idol star, you don’t have a choice but to have two identities. I invested a lot in my identity as BTS and RM, and this is really a dilemma. We need to find ways to overcome this, and I’m trying different things. I study, I read books. I need time to be wholly me, the original me that I know.

Everyone in BTS has a stage name, a person they become when they present themselves in front of their fans. On stage Namjoon is RM, a fierce and confident rapper, a powerful and charming performer, a dependable leader and someone who lives a fiery and intense life.

Behind the scenes, Namjoon is Namjoon, a man in his twenties who is trying to figure out how to be an adult just like everyone else. He likes to go on bike rides, take care of plants, go to museums, read books and spend time in nature. He gets lazy and reads webtunes for 5 hours straight and sometimes argues with the people around him because they annoy him.

Namjoon spends the years of his youth as part of BTS, in the public eye, and sometimes that causes tension between these different parts of himself; the stage persona and the private person. In Break The Silence: The Movie which came out in 2020, there was a lot of talk about identity. During one of Namjoon’s segments he said:

There is also the fear of how well I’m taking care of myself, the Kim Namjoon as a person. Aside from money, fame, and a sense of calling, what do I really have? When you have those things all other things start to feel really valuable. Those who don’t have them would find them really special. I think it’s a repetition of that, so for me, there is a fear about whether I’m faithfully living the story of my life to the fullest.

He also mentions this dilemma in Airplane pt.2 on the 2018 album Love Yourself: Tear where the lyrics go:

Who should I live as today, Kim Namjoon or RM?

25, I still don’t know how to live well

For Namjoon and anyone in BTS, there is no simple answer to this question, as the nature of their job puts them in a position that makes it hard for them to develop a sense of self outside of the work they are doing. Even though Namjoon is part of an incredibly successful band, that doesn't mean he got it all figured out. As he has poured his youth and his energy into becoming the best performer he can be, he now feels like the Kim Namjoon behind the scenes deserves some energy and space to exist too.

Rap Monster and RM

Before Namjoon was RM, Namjoon was Rap Monster, a stage name that he used until November of 2017. The name Rap Monster fits the fierce and somewhat angst-ridden style of music that Namjoon was making in the beginning of his career. He decided to move on from the name in 2017 because it was no longer representative of him and the music that he was making.

In an interview with Entertainment Tonight Namjoon said that RM could stand for many things. He mentioned Real Me as one of the possibilities, but seems to prefer not to pin one specific meaning to the name.

In another interview with J-14 Magazine when asked what kind of advice he would give to himself in 2013, he said:

Hey Namjoon, Don’t name yourself Rap Monster. You’re a human. You’re not a monster. You’re a beautiful human.

Namjoon has often said that one of his missions in life is to love himself. This struggle to love himself often reflects in his lyrics, and now also in his decision to change his stage name, as the old one had some negative connotations to it. Perhaps Namjoons struggle with self acceptance, self worth and self love is one of the reasons that identity is such a big theme for him, as he is trying to figure out how to be a Namjoon that he can love. RM is a stage name that is more aligned with that goal as it leaves more room for flexibility and change.

Map of the Soul

The subject of identity is explored to the fullest in the Map of the Soul era that started with Map of the Soul: Persona in 2019, followed up by Map of the Soul: 7 in 2020.

Map of the Soul is inspired by the ideas of psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Carl Gustav Jung. The words persona, shadow and ego that are used in Map of the Soul come directly from his theory. BTS uses these concepts to examine different parts of themselves and their career over time. A lot of this era feels like a final examination of the question that Namjoon has been asking himself in different ways throughout his entire career: Who am I?

In Intro: Persona, the opener to both albums, Namjoon writes about his journey with identity in the first few lines of the song:

“Who am I,” a question that I’ve been asking myself for my whole life

A question that I will probably never be able to find the right answer for

If I were answerable with only a few words,

God wouldn’t have created all those many beauties

Namjoon realizes that he will probably never have a clear answer to the question of “who am I?” and he accepts that. He recognizes that his identity can’t be summed up by a few words or traits and that this isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it can feel more secure to build our entire sense of identity around one aspect of ourselves (I am a straight A student, I am an underground rapper) but that puts us in a position without flexibility and without space for growth. As different parts of ourselves clash with each other we end up feeling scattered, unsure of who we are, and angry at ourselves. It’s only when those different parts of ourselves are allowed to co-exist that we can find peace and a true sense of self.

BTS will talk about this idea in other songs too, like in Idol, where Taehyung sings:

There are tens and hundreds of myself within me

Today, I greet my another self

They are all me after all,

so I just run rather than worrying

The notion also comes back in the speech that BTS held for the United Nations in 2018. The final message of that speech was to find your name and find your voice by speaking yourself. There was a lot of talk about losing your identity as a young child in favor of fitting in, and Namjoon encouraged everyone to be their own person and to find their own voice back. Throughout the speech he mentions how he is both an idol and artist, Kim Namjoon and RM, and also just an ordinary 24 year old guy. He is saying that he can be many things at once and strives to love all those different parts of himself at the same time.

In the final verses of Intro: Persona, Namjoon boldly and confidently claims that he is no longer ashamed of the different parts inside of him, writing:

Yeah my name is R

The ‘me’ who I remember and who people know

The ‘me’ who I created by myself to speak my mind

Yeah, I might have been deceiving myself, I might have been lying

But, I’m not ashamed of it, this is the map of my soul

The lyrics continue, focusing on duality, complexity and balance within his identity, accepting the different parts of himself that coexist together even if they clash:

Dear myself

You must never lose your temperature

because you don’t need to be warm or cold

Though I might sometimes pretend I’m good and sometimes pretend I’m evil,

this is the barometer of my direction that I want to set

The ‘me’ who I want to be

The ‘me’ who people want

The ‘me’ who you love

And the ‘me’ who I craft

The ‘me’ who’s smiling

The ‘me’ who’s crying sometimes

Living and breathing every second, every moment, even now

Within these lyrics there is a tone of direction and intent rather than one of being lost and questioning. This tone is very strong throughout the entire Map of the Soul concept, especially in ON, suggesting that maybe “finding” your identity isn’t about anxiously defining every single part of your personality, it’s more about choosing who you want to be and boldly pursuing the world as an incomplete human being. In the end, there is no simple answer to the question of “who am I?” and that’s okay.

All lyrics translations come from Doolset. Visit the website for additional notes and interpretations of BTS lyrics.

[reallybadfeeling]

My Obikin Playlist Masterpost

I'm gonna try to explain my reasoning, but you can give each song whatever interpretation you want. Also, use them however you want if any of them inspire you to make something creative.

(PS: Sorry for my ranting on the first song. I'm very passionate about it in particular.) (Tagging @imtryingsstuff because she asked for it. Even though I was already working on this post before she asked. I have way too much free time.)

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❧ Heart + Bones - Roisin O

I've tried to sit down and write this song out Feels like a thousand times But I was always too scare of what I might find But if I keep on blocking this pain out It might be too late To heal my heart somehow Don't wanna open that wound Don't wanna replay that night Don't wanna think about you You are no longer mine Don't wanna write you a love song When I know that love is gone 'Cause if I let myself think of you I might lose my mind It's the heart and bones It's an empty soul The dreams at night that shake me to my core And I can't get up off this floor It's in the bones of me An empty soul in me The dreams at night that shake me to my core I can't get off this floor [...] Don't wanna think about you When you're no longer mine Don't wanna write you a love song When I know this love is gone [...] The dreams at night that shake me to my core I just can't take this hurting anymore [...] Don't wanna think about you You are no longer mine Don't wanna write you a love song When I know this love is gone 'Cause if I let my mind think of you I might lose it all I've tries to sit down and write this song out Feels like a thousand times

A fair warning: each and every break-up song in this playlist is basically me crying at the idea of a very heart broken Obi-Wan post RotS alone on Tatooine. But for this song in particolar I mention the repetitions with the slight differences because in my eyes they are actually HUGE! The more the song goes on, the more Obi-Wan is spiraling! The way it specifically tells that the empty soul is his the second time, like he accepts that despite what Anakin did he still thinks there's a soul there to save, and the idea of not doing so makes his soul feel empty. And the switch from "get up off this floor" to "get off this floor", literally him being so desperate he stops thinking that he wants to get up (and the last time it literally becomes "i just can't take this hurting anymore", because Obi-Wan had to see so many people he loves die, he literally can't take any more breaking of his heart). The first "you are no longer mine" is the realization hitting him, but then it becomes "when you are no longer mine" and that feels like acceptance of that realization (but then later in the song it turns back to "you are no longer mine" like he's so desperate he wants to deny it once again, distance himself from it)! The switch from "that love" from "this love", like the first time he's thinking about how Anakin no longer loves him, but then realizes that no matter how much he still loves Anakin, there is actually nothing he can do about how everything is broken. But most of all the first time it's "if I let myself think of you I might lose my mind", which is Obi-Wan still being rational about things, or at least trying not to let his mind linger on the thought of Anakin; but then at the end it becomes "if I let my mind think of you I might lose it all", because he's already thinking about Anakin and he can't let his mind linger on it, otherwise he would realize how much he lost when he lost Anakin, which is everything. And the ending too, by repeating the start, but now it has a feeling of resignation to it, like at first he was literally scared to let himself linger on his feelings because he knew he would find heart break, but now he's just empty and at the same times he knows he'll feel like that a thousand times more, because he just can't let that hurt go, he can't let his love for Anakin be forgotten. ... I love this song and it shows. I mean, the playlist is literally named after it for a good reason. I swear I'll be less wordy for every other explanation.

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❧ Black Hole - Griff

It seems like things are going really well for you I wish that I could say the same about me too I wish that I could say the same [...] Without a trace You disappeared and took some of me with you, babe Like the way I used to laugh untile my belly ached Well, that's all gone away now And boy, you know I've tried to pray, I've bruised my knees I've tried to bring you back to me I've tried my best to find some kind of peace Don't you see? There's a big black hole where my heart used to be And I've tried my best to fill it up with things I don't need It don't work like that, no, it's not easy To fill this gap that you left in me

So, I see this as a song for an AU, maybe a Modern Au. Something basic like the two of them maybe being neighbors and Obi-Wan maybe being a tutor for Anakin when he was a teen, and Anakin having a huge crush on him. But then Obi-Wan marries and Anakin is heart broken. (Don't worry the idea is also that Obi-Wan gets a divorce and comes back to Anakin, but still, the song fits for the first part of this idea). But feel free to see whatever else you want in it.

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❧ Gone, Gone, Gone - Phillip Phillips

I'll lie, cheat, I'll beg and bride To make you well, to make you well When enemies are at your door I'll carry you away from war [...] Give me reasons to believe That you would do the same for me And I will do it for you, for you Baby, I'm not moving on I'll love you long after you're gone

This is honestly a classic. It would fit with any ship, but that line about lying, cheating, etc... That screams Anakin. Like, literally canon that he would do anything to keep the person he loves with him.

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❧ What You Talking About? - Peter Bjorn and John

You used to be my hero Now you're just another boss [...] Five years as your understudy When I can't understand what you talking about [...] Tell me lies and I will listen Tell the truth and I'll be gone Tell me why I need permission [...] Shining in your shadow How could I sink this low? Our acquaintance has been so-so And I can't understand where my patience's gone

These lyrics just give me very frustrated Anakin as a Padawan trying to navigate his relationship with Obi-Wan. Not very romantic or shippy, but still relevant in my opinion.

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❧ Bruci la città - Irene Grandi

(Let) The city burn down or live in fear (that) within two hours everything will disappear anything else will disappear [...] I can't stop (myself) from screaming That I hold you to my heart To protect you from evil That I wish I could soothe Your pain, your pain [...] (Let) The stars explode (Let) The whole thing explode (Let) Everything other than the two of us die At least for a little bit At least as a mistake [...] I want to get my act together Maybe be better And shield you with my heart From catastrophe and fear

Don't really know why, but this makes me think of a quiet moment in the middle of the Clone Wars, just Anakin and Obi-Wan alone in a tent, hoping to have a moment of peace in each other's arms. (If you want the full lyrics translated let me know, I just picked my favorite parts)

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❧ Atlantis - Seafret

We got here the hard way All those words that we exchange Is it any wonder things get dark? 'Cause it's in my heart, it's in my head I never take back the things I said [...] I can't save us My Atlantis, we fall We've built this town on shaky ground [...] Now all the birds have fled The hurt just leaves me scared Losing everything I've ever known It's all become too much Maybe I'm not built for love If I knew that I could reach you, I would go

SO MUCH OBI-WAN ANGST POST-ROTS! Like, the birds that have fled are the Jedi that survived Order 66, the things impossible to take back a reference to the entire conversation between Anakin and Obi-Wan during their duel... And the one thing that always breaks me: "maybe I'm not built for love", which makes me think about that "infinte sadness" thing that comes from one of the novels. *chef kiss*

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❧ No Time To Die - Billie Eilish

I should have known I'd leave alone Just goes to show That the blood you bleed is just the blood you owe We were a pair [...] You were my life, but like is far away from fair Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to everybody else? That I'd fallen for a lie You were never on my side [...] I let it burn You're no longer my concern Faces from my past return Another lesson yet to learn

Don't know about you, but this always makes me think of a lonely and bitter Obi-Wan after RotS. There's also another way of reading this honestly. This could absolutely be Anakin spiraling at the end of RotS, convinced that Padmé doesn't love him anymore; and then Vader facing Luke (the face from the past returning) and realizing the one who always lied to him was Palpatine.

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❧ White Flag - Dido

I know I left too much mess and Destruction to come back again And I caused nothing but trouble I understand if you can't talk to me again And if you live by the rules of "it's over" Then I'm sure that that makes sense But I will go down with this ship And I won't put my hands up and surrender There will be no white flag above my door I'm in love and always will be And when we meet Which I'm sure we will All that was there Will be there still I'll let it pass And hold my tongue And you will think That I've moved on

There's no doubt that this song has been overused. And it is a very classic meme, so sometimes it's hard to take it seriously. But I still love it. And I can't help but relate this to something with Vader trying to redeem himself but failing at that too, and his and Obi-Wan's relationship still being broken as fuck.

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❧ Fight the End - The playground

When it's all falling apart I'll be the one who can hold you Console you When everything's getting dark And you can't find the spark To get through I'll fight for you till the end Whatever's broken I'll mend For you If you think it's all gone Just breathe in and hold on Till the end of time

Once again, just some H/C during the Clone Wars kind vibes, but also good for an apocalypse AU of some kind.

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❧ Hanging On A Lie - Striking Matches

I'm not mentioning a specific part of this song, because the entire thing in my head is just the whole journey of Anakin turning to the Dark Side and then turning back to the Light right before he died. Seriously, up until the first chorus, it's just Anakin talking about what he feels like about Padmé's supposed betrayal. ("Baby you've been up to something / don't you tell me it's not what it looks like" but also "I might have been naive but I'm not blind" and "Don't you know you should know better than this / Than to cover up the truth with your poisonous lips/I'm not falling for it this time"). The second half of the song is Vader facing Luke. ("I'll be the one who got away from you when you / finally figure it out / you won't find me"). And the last part is Vader realizing all the lies Palpatine told him all alon. ("I'm not fallin' for it this time/try and try too little too late" and again the "you should know better than this/than to cover up the truth with you poisonous lips") A bit of a weird interpretation, that's for sure. But look at me making a song about cheating all about Anakin's journey!

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❧ Bloodsport '15 - Raleigh Ritchie

Your love is worth it and for that I will wait And though you hate me when you have a turn I drive you crazy, but you always return [...] Although you love me, sometimes we're mean Things can get ugly, but we're still a team We are an army that breaks from withing but That's why we're stronger and that's how we'll win [...] I've got your back, and though it's stacked against us I've got your hand, it's us against consensus And I will burn the people who hurt you the worst and I will no learn Cause I am too young and too dumb to consider the terms of breaking the law And I'll curse the day that they return With a smile on my face as their heads hit the floor And they're done, now it's curtains, the bloodlust's a clusterfuck, it hurts but it's working And even if you ask me to stop, it's too late because I've already decided their fate It's not a distaste, it's pure hate and it pulsates and it works its way around my brain Anyway, what I'm trying to say is I'll protect you till the day I meet my maker So don't fight me now cause you might need me later Loving you is a bloodsport Fighting in a love war It's not what I'm in love for, I'm yours I don't know if you can help it, maybe I'm just being selfish

Soooo, basically Anakin doing to Obi-Wan what he did to Padmé: loving him so much he thinks he has to turn to the Dark Side to save him. The first part I can almost imagine said by Obi-Wan, actually. Like, he's aware that sometimes Anakin hates their dynamics, but also that they are both in love... Which just ends with total madness.

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❧ Sweet Love of Mine - Joy Williams

I was broken, I was blind Lost in a moment I thought I left behind Then you woke up this dark soul of mine Carrying a light I thought I'd never find When you found me, I was all alone The whole world around me, but nowhere to call home I heard your voice sing like heaven's choir Gathered up my fears and threw them in the fire

I'm well aware this song is about pregnancy and how the singer found herself in the experience of becoming a mother. BUT, hear me out: what about an AU with either one of them being a Sith and the other one is still a Jedi. Instead of fighting each other, the Jedi tries to save the Sith, because they realize that the Sith actually never had a chance to be anything else since they grew up with a Sith as their "parent" and Master. But if we still want to keep the pregnancy element, fuck it! It's perfect for an Omegaverse AU, with Anakin maybe about to fall when he finds out he's pregnant and that is how Obi-Wan and their unborn child save Anakin. (Is this very specific? Yes. Do I care? Nope, and that's why this song made it into the playlist.)

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❧ Senza fare sul serio - Malika Ayane

There's a post on my blog already about why this song makes me think about the Jedi Order in general. I know I should probably keep it in a different playlist. Alas, it's still here. Have a link to my previous post if you are interested on reading a complete translation and the explanation of my reasoning. HERE!

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❧ Conversations in the Dark - John Legend

I will never try to change you, change you I will always want the same you, same you Swear on everything I pray to That I won't break your heart I'll be there when you get lonely, lonely Keep the secrets that you told me, told me And your love is all you owe me And I won't break your heart [...] And we, we got places we both gotta be But there ain't nothing I would rather do Then blow off all my plans for you

It's just such a lovely love song, I couldn't help myself. This seriously gives me sappy Obi-Wan vibes in any way, shape or form.

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❧ If You Ever Leave, I'm Coming With You - The Wombats

You know I'll do Whatever you want me to [...] Take you out of this You reluctant optimist And if you ever leave, I'm coming with you Stuck to the gum that's stuck on your shoe If you ever leave, I'm coming with you [...] Am I losing you in the dark baby? No more breaking stuff No more acting up Filling your head with doubt

A song about the obsessive kind of love that hints of a way too dependent relationship? Something that mentions losing themselves in the dark? Of fucking course I relate this to Anakin and the way he loves people!

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❧ Transplant - Sea Girls

You're breaking all the promises tonight I'm always dancing by myself as the music plays I'm always one step behind, off-beat, out of place Now I'm looking for you, you're looking away [...] Your heart changed Mine stayed the same I don't recognize your voice when you're saying my name Your heart changed And mine beats the same way [...] Wish I could be back in the moment We were shining, we were making mistakes 'Til your heart changed Mine stayed the same

Have I mentioned that I have a lot of RotS feels? Yeah, so, in my head the "dancing" works like an analogy to fighting and the "music" is literally the sound of battle. Which is why this fits perfectly as far as I'm concerned. An even the "always one step behind" part is just Obi-Wan not realizing Anakin was slowly turning to the Dark Side. But it can be related also to how Anakin basically felt like he didn't truly belong with the Jedi.

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❧ Read my Mind - JONES

Can't control my thoughts But I'm trying every day [...] But sometimes I want impossible things When you hear my voice, what does it say? Need a language, we're lost in translation From impossible thoughts and feelings Why don't you know before I know? What I need to say, before I can How come you don't have the answer Before I asked you the question? Wish you could read my mind [...] It's been a long time since we've been together In the same world, just want you to look at me Like I was everything you ever wanted again [...] Just hold me like I'm everything you wanted again

A good song of the two people pining will always make me think of those two dorks. And their feeling are definitely lost in translation even in canon, with Anakin never realizing how much Obi-Wan actually cares for him because of Palpatine's manipulations.

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❧ So Much It Hurts - Niki & The Dove

Oh, I ask you where you've been 'Cause you always come home late nowadays What a fool was I to think we were safe From the thieves in the temple [...] Oh, won't you bring it back? After all that we've been through together Is it now you gonna throw it all away? Oh, a love like ours Tell me, was it worth it? Oh, the thieves in the temple Oh, but you said that For better for worse You would always be there for me Always be there for me Always be there for me like I'll always be there for you Good times and bad times

So this screams Padmé being cheated on. Like, Anakin still married to her, yet he is always sneaking away after they spend time together to be in the Temple with Obi-Wan. Like, Obi-Wan is literally the thief in the Temple that steals Anakin away from her. (Which I'm sure is actually a metaphor for how the couples' marriage is the temple and someone is disrespecting it by taking away the other's lover. But look at me making this literal, 'cause why not!).

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❧ Power & Control - Marina

Give a little, get a lot That's just how you are with love [...] Think you're funny, think you're smart Think you're gonna break my heart Think you're funny, think you're smart Yeah, you may be good looking But you're not a piece of art [...] Power and control I'm gonna make you fall I'm gonna make you fall We give and take a little more 'Cause all my life I've been controlled You can't have peace without a war

Another song for an AU, this time one with both of them being Sith, most likely being enemies too at first. Before they decide to work together against Anakin's Master.

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❧ No Hero - Elisa

Don't you shut your eyes And hide you heart behind a shadow 'Cause you can count on me As long as I can breathe [...] I've fallen from grace Yeah, I'm much less a saint than a sinner Oh, no I ain't no superhuman 'Cause that's just in the movies, I know But I'll carry you throught the night Through the storm Give you love, always love in return I can't jump over buildings I'm no hero But love can do miracles I can't outrun a bullet 'Cause I'm no hero But I would take one for you [...] 'Cause I'm no hero But I'd spill my blood for you If you need me to I'll be there

Another song from an Italian artist, but this one is in English! And I totally see this song for a scenario where one of the two isn't a Jedi or even for a Modern AU. But it can totally work for Canon compliant too because Anakin is the one every calls hero with no fear. It fits then if Obi-Wan tells Anakin that he doesn't feel like a hero, but he would do anything for Anakin.

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SOOOO, this post is getting way to long (like, it was way too long even just with the first song). And I made it to an even 20 songs. I feel like this a nice place to stop for now. Don't worry, these are just the first 20. I have more in my private playlist, but I want to make another post like this when I add them to the public one. Because I can. And that's what I'm gonna do.

[calumxkisses]

Take My Breath Away | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: angst

summary: it’s Crystal and Michael wedding, a day of happiness, but your heart is breaking.

a/n: hello everyone! I’m back after months with a new imagine. as always, let me know what you think about it, I hope you’ll like it!

song for this part: take my breath away

♡♡♡

You were in the bathroom splashing your face with water, but carefully trying not to mess up the makeup you spended so much time working on. Your mascara was slightly smudged under your eyes, but you removed it effortlessly, still remembering the sweet vows that Michael and Crystal exchanged just an hour ago that made you cry like a baby.

The ceremony was as beautiful as them, their love showed in all the little details: from the decorations, created with red and white flowers - embellished with wildflowers, to simply the way they looked at each other.

You were honored to be one of Crystal’s bridesmaids, it filled your heart to see them getting married in front of your eyes, the same pair of eyes that noticed them exchanging their first ‘Hi’  four years ago.

You fixed your dress - a rose gold V-neck dress - and stepped outside the bathroom, ready to dream with the bride and groom's first dance.

“Hey, here you are! I was looking for you!” The sudden voice made you jump but a small smile appeared on your lips. You took a moment to look at him completely, without the haste of having to be ready in time: his curly black hair was messy but still incredibly perfect, his black tuxedo was carefully buttoned but his necktie was missing, letting the white shirt show completely.

Calum looked perfect, nothing new then his normal self, but something about him wearing a tuxedo during a wedding, was different.

“Your necktie is missing, you’re already having fun?” You said smiling but your heart ached a little.

“It was just uncomfortable, I told Mike I’d have removed it as soon as the ceremony was ended. But I’m planning to have a lot of fun later.” He grinned and winked at you.

You slapped him on his arm and he laughed, making your heart skip a beat.

“You look really beautiful today, I’m pretty sure you own this color. You were the prettiest there - probably more pretty than Crystal, Sierra and Kay, but don’t tell them or they’re going to kick me out of the band.” He laughed but your cheeks started to become as red as the rose in your hairstyle.

You changed the subject, hoping to relieve the color from your face. “Thank you, but they’ll probably kick you out because of the embarrassing things you said during your Best Man speech. That was a lot, Calum, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Michael wanting to kill you as much as he did before.”

“He deserved it! He ruined my favorite T-shirt, he had to pay and you know that!” He said pretending to be offended, but a huge grin on his face showed otherwise.

“Absolutely! I just thought that you wanted to-”

“What are you guys doing here? You’re gonna miss Crystal and Michael’s first dance!” Mitch said breathing heavily, a sign that he had been looking for you for a while.

“We gotta go, then! C’mon or we are gonna miss it and we don’t want that, right?” Calum said smiling and putting a hand on your back, making sure that you follow Mitch.

His touch sended goosebumps all over your body and your heart started to beat faster. You were used to be with him and to feel his body touch yours, after been friends for years, it was natural to fall asleep on each other's shoulder, to touch hands while in a crowd or to hug after a party.

Calum was now part of your routine. He was ready to laugh at your jokes even before you started telling them, to hold your hair while you threw up your bad decisions in a toilet, and to took care of you when the world seemed to release its weight on your shoulders.

Hood was the kind of person who lights up a room every time he entered it, who had the strength to get up every time he fell to his knees, who hummed Frank Ocean songs while making popcorn or who let you into his world  when everything seemed to go wrong, because he was ready to share his demons with you.

Calum Hood was the only one capable of taking your breath away just looking at you. But he didn’t know that and you weren’t sure that he’d never know.

“I might ruin everything!” You once cried at Crystal while she was to the other side of the phone, ready to help you out during your umpteenth love breakdown.

“..Or he also might have feelings for you and you'd end up getting together, even better married! We could do a double wedding!” She said, trying to cheer you up a little.

“Yeah, no, that’s not going to happen. I’d steal the show and It wouldn’t be right for you.”

Crystal and Michael were the most beautiful bride and groom you have ever seen. The way they looked at each other, touched each other and even the way they got lost in their world to the tune of one of the most loving songs on earth, every single aspect of their life together was a symbol of the strong love that they had.

Crystal's eyes were filled with tears and Michael was ready to wipe them away one by one for the rest of his life.

The smile on their lips was enough to understand why marriage is identified as "the most beautiful day of a couple's life" and the look they gave to each other was filled with passion and feeling, a love that blossomed almost by chance, but which was meant for life.

Immersed in a moment so happy and full of love, you turned to look at Calum, only a few centimeters away from you, and you saw him give the same gaze that Michael was turning to his bride, full of love and passion, to the girl to his right.

When Calum first told you that he had met a girl, you didn't pay much attention to it.

He was handsome, tall, but above all, he was the drummer in one of the most emerging bands of the moment and it was normal for him to meet new people.

When he first introduced her to you, the first thing you noticed was the way he looked at her. She was beautiful, sure, and surely the pimple on your face made you feel even more inferior to her, but the way Calum stared at her was what made you feel pain.

It seemed as if he had never seen a more beautiful girl, it was his most precious gift and the fact that he was introducing her to you meant that his intentions were serious.

When he confessed to you that he had feelings her, you thought you felt your heart break. You were ready to rush to the emergency room because you were sure you were dying of a broken heart. Calum hadn't talked about love - not like this, at least - for years, despite all the times you tried to convince him that love is beautiful, that sharing, passion, joy and pain with someone else was worth it. And now he was convinced, to the point of saying "I love you" to someone - but not to you. It wasn't you who convinced him otherwise, it wasn't you who showed him the beauty of life and hold him in bed. There was someone else and you weren't sure it was worth it anymore.

And she was there, next to him, her hands holding his, her eyes returning his gaze.

“Hey, we are gonna go dance, will you be okay?” He asked with such a sweet innocent smile.

You swallowed your tears and nodded at him. “Yeah, just go dance, loser. I’ll wait here.” A fake smile plastered on your face.

There he was, beautiful as ever. The soft lights reflected his breathtaking brown eyes making them look more glossier than usual while his hands were on her hips. They were laughing and smiling at each other, him kissing her hand.

Slow dancing in the middle of the room, and slowly breaking your heart, you faked your best smile and waved at them, watching them fall in love.

“I love you.” He whispered, but it wasn’t in your ear.

Slowly breaking apart, you looked at him one last time before leaving the room.

...

[retvenkos]

dancing in corridors | m.

Merlin (BBC) - Merlin x Reader, fluff requested

tw: none

word count: 1.4k 

prompt: “Dance with me?”

A/N: It’s missing Merlin hours.

Summary: At a banquet, you and Merlin get bored with tending to the nobility and decide to sneak away for a little celebration, yourself.

Walking down the corridors to the Banquet Hall, the first thing you heard was the music; light and joyful, the tune practically begging you to dance along. You smiled at the thought, and if it weren't for the jug of wine in hand, perhaps you would have. Imagine you, dancing in the corridor for all of Camelot to see. Wouldn't that have been a sight?

The other servants wouldn't be surprised, though - they rarely were when it came to your antics. As long as you didn't rain hellfire down on them, your fellow servants and reluctant friends allowed you to have your fun, dancing in corridors and singing while doing the wash. You supposed it brought a kind of happiness to their life - a sort of second-hand thrill that made working in this fortress bearable. Oftentimes, the castle could be stifling, and looking for life within it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. There was so much that weighed the servants down, so when they saw you capture little joys, they stored them in a bottle and allowed you to roam for more. 

You closed your eyes and listened to the music for a moment. You knew the perfect dance that could go with such a song - something upbeat and dazzling, with tricky footwork and impromptu spinning. You tapped the beat on your thigh, thoroughly lost in your own world, but when a shout rose above the din of voices, you were pulled from your stupor.

Using the servant's entrance to slip into the Banquet Hall, the low buzz of sound became a roar - the nobility were coming loose after a drink or two and guffawing at the slightest hint of a joke; the knights were engaged in some debate or another, passionately defending their stance on something that seemed to have an edge of humor to it, given their wolfish grins; and even the ladies (who were usually the most composed, throughout the evening) were chatting with more vigor than usual, egging on one of their own who eventually stood and went over to the knights, asking one of their finest if he would like to dance. The feast was a success, and King Uther purveyed it all from his seat at the high table, a little more delighted than usual, but his brow still set in concentration, his glass still nearly full. 

You filled empty glasses with wine, expertly weaving through the throng of servants and guests, and for a moment you could pretend it was a dance. In a way, you supposed it was. A spin and skip you were quite good at, if you were honest. Through your work, you kept an eye on those who were known to be rather easy to excite, making sure they didn't fill their glasses too many times, but your gaze kept flicking over to someone else, as well. Merlin.

It wasn't hard to like Merlin - the whole castle had seemingly fallen under his spell - and you were no exception. He was wildly funny, hardworking (no matter what Prince Arthur seemed to say), and deeply caring. You doubted there was a servant in all the world that rivaled Merlin in loyalty. Arthur could jump off a cliff, and Merlin would be there to make sure he didn't get hurt (and then scolding him when he did). Merlin seemed to carry all of the most awe-inspiring traits in the world, and yet he didn't seem to notice them or think he was capable of such wonder. You had told him that he was extraordinary on more than one occasion, and yet he never seemed to believe you.

Not fully, anyway.

It hadn't taken the other servants long to catch on to the romance that was blossoming between the two of you, and at any chance they got, they pushed the two of you together. It was another little joy you had unwittingly brought them, and one they thought was wildly funny and immensely endearing.

Tonight was no exception. All evening, your fellow friends had been trying to get the two of you to spend time together - perhaps hoping that the music and the high spirits would rub off on you, and something momentous might happen. You weren't quite sure if you agreed, but it was good fun to be given tasks that pushed you in Merlin's direction. If it wasn't fetching him another jug of wine, it was handing him more food, and if it wasn't food, it was a servant sending you along with some message or another. You and Merlin had found the game you seemingly played incredibly funny, chuckling every time the other approached, waggling your eyebrows as though something illicit was about to happen.

When Merlin approached, you were already anticipating his arrival, having seen a fellow servant whisper in his ear. 

"Do you think the kitchens actually need our help this time?" Merlin's eyes were bright, and his tone was full of that playfulness you prayed he'd never lose. "Last I checked, there isn't much more to be done than make sure the nobility doesn't reach the end of their goblet."

"I can guarantee you the kitchen doesn't want to see me, again. I steal too much food." 

And he breathed a laugh that was so soft it was nearly covered by the music, entirely, but you heard it.

"But I do have an idea if you want to leave the feast behind," you said, lowering your voice so none of the servants around you would hear. It would be rather scandalous if they found out you had suggested such a thing, wouldn't it?

"Do you, now?"

"Dance with me?"

"Here?" And you could hear some of that scandal in Merlin's tone, enough to make you laugh.

"Out in the corridor, you dolt," your scolding was light, and you didn't miss the ease with which his shock lent itself to a grin, the expression seeming to be more natural than breathing. "Uther would have our heads if we started to dance here, don't you think?"

"He's been looking for another reason to put me in the stocks."

You both laughed.

"Well? Do you want to dance with me? It would be much better than standing here moon-eyed all night with the other servant's throwing me meaningless chores so we can cross paths."

Merlin smiled, but then his eyes flicked over to Arthur. "You don't think we'll be missed?"

"If we are, I have no doubt the other servants will have a thousand tales to cover our disappearance."

The music switched to a different song, one that must have been familiar, because it made Merlin's eyes illuminate with the kind of fondness that only memory allows for. Almost immediately, his resolve softened.

"I suppose one dance can't hurt, can it?"

"That's the spirit."

You and Merlin made your way to the exit, and he passed off his jug of wine to another servant as you went. You, on the other hand, snuck two extra goblets, which Merlin took from you with a raised brow.

"Dancing requires a little bit of fun, doesn't it?"

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"I do—" Merlin chuckled "—and so are you."

Merlin made some gesture as to brush off your praise, but you held your ground. "I mean it, truly. You don't see it, and I'll never understand why. But you are the most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, Merlin."

He seemed a little taken aback, as though he didn't know what to say or do with your appreciation. Now safely out of the hall, you poured him some wine and wrapped his hands around the goblet. Merlin scoffed, tongue in cheek, and you nodded.

"One day, you will see how enchanting you are."

You clinked your glasses together and took a sip. Music drifted from the Banquet Hall to the deserted corridor in which you stood, and you could still hear the dull buzz of conversation from within, but by all accounts, it was just you and Merlin, alone and smiling. 

"Wait until you see me dance, I'm sure you'll change your mind."

And you took his hand.

-- taglist: @locke-writes, @randomfandomimagine, @cooloaflandhero, @findmeintheafterglow, @catsbooksandmusic, @amortensie​ // message me if you want to be added!

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Live Wire

A/N and Warnings: Smut, Language and mentions of alcohol. 18+

There he was, in all his glory, with his black hair matted to his sweat covered skin. Nikki fucking Sixx. Notorious rockstar. My boyfriend. And a great performer. So we’re Vince, Mick and Tommy. But Nikki knew how to read the crowd. He got them going. Even this far into a show. 

But tonight instead of looking at me, just off stage, when the band played ‘Without You’, he was focused on some girl in the crowed. Again. Winking and smiling at her as she flashed her barely covered tits. He usually looked for me during that song. Although, he had done this a couple of time over the tour, the one he insisted I come on. Both occasions had ended up with us fighting, then not being able to keep our hands off one another. He’d apologize and say it wouldn’t happen again. But here we were. 

Nikki and I had a relationship that some might consider volatile. We thought of it as intense and passionate. He liked that I could match him wit for wit. We fed off each other like fire and gasoline. There wasn’t much he could throw at me that I couldn’t catch and give right back. 

And I don’t like to share. 

As for tonight, I was done. I wouldn’t accept his apology. He was going to find out just how pissed I was. I knew jealousy was a useless emotion especially, when dating a rockstar. But it constantly reared it’s ugly head. 

I turned on my heels and all but stomped back to the dressing room, pushing past roadies and anyone else that got in my way. I knew the set list by heart now. Two more songs and an encore. Which only gave me time to stew in my anger and annoyance. 

I stormed into the dressing room, slamming the door behind me before I began to pace. Muttering and cursing under my breath. 

How could he do this again? But why was I so mad? He hadn’t touched her, but that was my song. 

I was seething. My blood was boiling in my veins. White hot anger was feeding off the jealousy. Anger was easy for me. 

By the time the show was over, I was sitting on the sofa, waiting. I stared at the door, wishing my gaze could burn a hole through it. 

Tommy was the first one in, as he basically kicking the door open. His adrenaline was running high. 

“Wooooo!” He yelled as he made his way over and tried to embrace me “awesome show huh, y/n?” 

“Ew, get away” I said shoving at his sweat and liquor coated bare chest, making him laugh before he took a seat in another chair. He always acted like a over grown, overly enthusiastic puppy waiting for you to throw a stick or give him belly rubs. 

Vince was close behind Tommy as he made his way to the table in front of me, grabbing one of the many drinks that littered its surface. 

“Great show” I said as he looked up at me, giving me a smile and wink. He liked to rest his voice after a show, not that the smoking and drinking helped. But whatever. 

Mick took a seat next to me, I could see the pain written on his face. His body slowly relaxing into the worn out furniture. 

“Another great show Mick” I said turning to smile at him. Keeping up the nice act until I could rip into Nikki.

He reached up an patted my cheek as he replied “thanks doll”. 

“What? Don’t I get any praise?” Nikki said as he sauntered into the room. I leveled my gaze at him. The cocky smirk that I loved plastered on his handsome face. 

I crossed my arms over my chest as I narrowed my eyes. Not saying a word. 

“Bbbbrrrrrr” Tommy said, faking a shiver “I just caught a chill!” He looked at Vince who tried to hide his laughter. 

“Then put some clothes on asshole” Nikki snapped at him before turning his attention back to me. The two of us staring one another down. Neither of us willing to break. 

“Not this shit again” Mick groaned as he stood. He mulled over the bottles on the table, picking one up, he checked it out as he spoke “go easy on him doll, we still need him for the remaining shows.” With that he made his way out of the room, heading to the limo I assumed. 

“I thought you said she wasn’t gonna be a problem, dude” Tommy chimed in again. I turned my gaze to him, making him squirm uncomfortably as I stared daggers at the nearly naked man. 

“Uuuhhh, yup” Tommy mummbled as he hopped up, grabbed a couple of bottles and bolted out into the hall. Vince followed suit, shaking his head and rolling his eyes as he shut the door. 

“I didn’t think you would be a problem.” Nikki said, his gaze never leaving my face. 

“I am not the problem here, Nikki. You and your roving eyes are” I said through gritted teeth, my fists clenching. Jealousy biting at me again. Groupies were everywhere, hiding under vehicles and even breaking into hotel rooms. I’d had my fair share of fights with them. 

“Looking ain’t touching, sweetheart” he said, the smirk returning to his lips. As much as I loved it, I also wanted to slap it right off his face. I hated the truth behind his statement, but I knew if I looked he’d kill the guy. So turn about is fair play. 

“You asked me to come with you, remember?” I asked, getting to my feet “Why was that? To warm your bed on nights you couldn’t find it elsewhere? Are you trying to make mad?”

“Oh, baby, I could always find it” he replied, taking a few steps closer toward the table that separated us. My anger flared, it took all my will power not to shove the table and all its contents at him. Instead I made my way around and stopped right in front of him. I craned my neck to look him in the eyes, he towered above me. 

“Then why the hell am I still here? If you’d rather have some groupie slut, I won’t stand in your way” I spat, my temper rising. 

“You love it. You love the scene. That’s why you’re still here.” He said, leaning his face closer to mine before whispering “that and the fact that you can’t get enough of me.”

Before I could stop myself, my hand is flying toward his face. A moment before it made contact with his cheek, he swiftly caught my wrist. Anger was getting the best of me. 

“You’re a dick!” I yelled. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. 

A deviously, amused look crossed his face “I’ll show you dick” he said as he crashed his lips into mine. My body, reacted as it always did when he touched me, but my mind wouldn’t allow this. I shoved at his chest “no Nikki, sex and apologizes won’t work this time!”

“I haven’t apologized” he said lowly before kissing me again. His hand pushing and tugging at my tube top, until it was at my waist. 

“You asshole” I said against his lips. He felt so good, his lips, his hands, his body. My resolve was breaking. My fingers dug into his sweaty hair, causing him to groan. He loved having his hair pulled. 

He began to walk me backwards, and towards the sagging sofa I had only just left. 

“Not the couch” I said half heartedly. Pulling his ripped up shirt over his head, and throwing it across the room as if it were on fire. 

“Alright” he laughed. He squatted and hooked his hands under my bare thighs, lifting me off the ground and pressed me against the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist as my skirt rode up, his leather clad stiffness pressed against my naked core.

“Look at you...no panties” he tsked, grinding into me, his hand wrapping loosely around my throat “and you talk shit about groupies.”

“Shut up” I whimpered, my own hand wrapping around his wrist, pressing his hand harder into my throat. He leaned down, reaching to take one of my nipples in his mouth. He grazed his teeth over the sensitive nub as I withered under his touch. My nails bit into the bare flesh of his back, causing his own moan to fall from his sinful lips.

“Told you you can’t get enough” he whispered as one of his hands slipped between us, unlacing his pants. 

“Never” I panted before kissing him again. 

Nikki struggled to push his pants down, but as soon as he shoved them low enough, he slammed into me, causing me screamed in pleasure. Wrecking me completely. He pounded into me over and over again, at a brutal pace. 

“More” I begged. “Harder.” Getting louder with each stroke. 

Nikki began to bite my neck, speaking between bites, he said “I’m gonna...let everyone...know who owns...you”. His hand wrapped around my hair, pulling my head, exposes freshly healed skin from our last makeup session. 

“If you own me” I moaned “then I own you.” I bit his neck hard, making him hiss. My fingers ranked against his scalp, jerking his head to the side as my teeth sank into his skin. His scent and salty, sweaty taste filled my senses. He was my favorite vice. 

“Yes” he groaned, his strokes becoming quicker, his breathing faster. He was getting close. He slipped a hand between us again, this time his skilled fingers found my clit as he began to rub circles over the swollen, sensitive crux. His other hand digging into my thigh so harshly I knew there’s be bruises. Only adding to the collection. 

“Why do you want groupies Nikki” I breathed, squeezing myself around him, causing his eyes to flutter for a moment  “when I know what you like?”

“Yeah...you do baby” he said. He could read me too. His beautiful green eyes seemed to glow as he slowly raked them over my face. His bare chest firmly against mine, keeping me pinned to the wall. 

Suddenly his lips were on mine, with bruising force, as his fingers worked my clit harder. I cried out louder, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. 

“Come with me baby” he commanded in my ear. 

The two of us breathing heavily as we hurtled towards the edge. I went over first, calling out his name, and he quickly followed. Our moans, screams and the sound leather against skin were followed by our panting and huffing to catch our breath. My head lulled back against the wall with a soft thud as his fell to my shoulder, my hand tangling itself in his hair again, the other tracing shapes over his shoulder. 

“Sorry baby” he said quietly against my skin before placing a few sloppy kisses across my shoulder and neck. 

“I’m sorry I tried to slap you” I hum, kissing the cheek that nearly caught my fury. “But I have to know, you are trying to make me jealous, aren’t you?” I ask.

He slowly pulls out of me, leaving me with a hollow feeling as he gently let me down to the floor. I felt the mixture of our hot climax slowly slide down my shaking legs. I shimmy my skirt down and pulled my tube top into place before looking back up at him. 

“Yeah. I am” he said, mischief painting his face, as he finished tucking himself in this leather pants. 

“You’re such a jerk” I said swatting at him “what the hell for?”

He laughed as he blocked my playful assault “Hey, hey! What about being sorry for trying to hit me?”

“Like I’m hurting you” I laugh. “So why?”

“You like it rougher when your jealous and mad. I was thinking about this the entire show. I knew you’d be getting riled up, I wanted to bend you over the sofa the minute I walking into the room. Seeing how angry you were, just thinking about it...so hot baby. Shit, last time I thought you were going to pass out, but you begged me to choke you harder.” He admits. 

“So the other times? You did it to get a rise out of me then too?” I asked, my arms crossing over my chest. 

“Yup” he replied, before he turned to the table to grab each of us a beer. 

“That wasn’t even that rough for us Nikki” I quipped. 

He chuckled as he turned back to me, “No, but check out your neck and I think you may have drawn some blood” he said reaching a hand around to touch his back. 

“I’ll say it again, you’re a dick” I replied shaking my head, taking the beer from him. But I couldn’t help but smile. 

“You love it” he growled, his arm snaking around my waist before he kissed me. 

“Well, now what will you do, since you’ve confessed your little game to me and all?” I asked looking up at him.

“Oh, I’ll come up with another game” he mused, that sexy and sometimes infuriating smirk returning to his lips. 

“I’ll be waiting” I replied, cocking a brow at him. 

“And you’re here because I want you here, you’re important to me.” He said gently, looking into my eyes, a soft genuine smile playing on hip swollen lips. This was a side of him I didn’t see often. I was used to the cocky rockstar, but this side of him is what melted my heart. The sweet and loving man he kept hidden, he was the one that asked me on the tour. How could I deny him? 

“Turning soft on me now, Sixx?” I asked, smiling up at him.

“Never” he said, and just like that, the tenderness was hidden again. His hand came down swift and hard on my ass, making me yelp. 

“Ow! Fuck!” I whined. Rubbing my hand over the spot he’d just smacked. 

“We already did” he quipped as he pulled me closer to him. “And I plan on doing it again” he whispered lowly as he leaned into my ear before nipping at my skin “soon”.

Suddenly there was a pounding at the door followed by Micks muffled voice, “if the two of you are done with your weird sex ritual, can you get out to the limo? We have some partying to do.”

We both fell into laughter as we headed out the door. 

@niksixx how’d I do? lol

[havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong]

Main Interlude — A Curious Attempt

Watching a tale from afar, in the midst of Carcosa, the Master of Chaldea decided to surprise their friend.

…If only their world wasn’t this… strange.

[Inspired by @hasjalterdoneanythingwrong , @hasmataharidoneanythingwrong (iirc), and others’ Pokémon posting as of late — I wanted to take a shot at this myself and include some neat writing on this topic. Check their works out as well — they’ve got some really neat stuff going on! (I probably missed a few people, but I’m very sleepy and can’t remember jack at the moment, lol)]

—

“Do these things even exist?”

I look in the mirror — fixing my orange hair, breathing a solemn sigh out.

‘Reality’ was already fairly subjective, wasn’t it? As I tried to ignore the buzzing of a fly that desperately wanted to give the flickering light above me a gentle smooch, my mind grew occupied with other things.

“…It’s an interesting pastime. Not to mention, it might do them some good to have something to play around with here.”

That, and a glance out the window told me things were already horrendously off.

The moon hadn’t so much as moved an inch since we landed here — it had to have been hours on end since then, the walk to this apartment itself taking one or two hours. Yet, the faint glow of moonlight still illuminated the outside, and cast a faint light on the bathroom floor where the flickering lightbulb couldn’t reach.

Something wasn’t right here already. As a Singularity, it only made sense — but something really was off.

…Perhaps…

“…It’ll make things a bit better for him, wouldn’t it? He has the others, and me, but… I think something else might be good for him.”

…I looked away from the mirror, and stepped towards the bathroom door. ‘Feeling’ out the mana I did have in reserves, I reckoned I’d have enough for the job.

Even with my mana output, surely creating a Mystic Code wasn’t beyond me.

—

…

…It appears it was beyond me.

The faint light of my desk table warmly illuminated small, spherical object so blatantly not what I had in my mind that it bordered on parody.

It had the bare minimum — a sphere separated into two halves, with a hinge holding the two together — but the latch was utterly broken, unable to keep a grip on the sphere if you so much as rattled it lightly. Even worse, the awkward shades of red and white made its vibes utterly horrendous, as though you left a fishing bob out in the sun for years and gave the whole thing a horrid yellow tint. The warm light, of course, made this atrocity even worse.

“…I didn’t exactly have any apricorns on hand, but… Holy hell.”

I couldn’t even dare look away from it — it was as though I had raised a monstrosity beyond human comprehension, like trying to find a poodle and instead raising a shoggoth. I hadn’t even tried to Mystic-Code-ify the damned thing yet — it still really only was a hastily-carved piece of wood that faintly resembled what an alien might consider a ‘poke ball’ at a passing glance.

…But even so, its appearance didn’t matter as much as if the Mystic Code worked. I could’ve made it into the beautiful visage of a filled mason jar, yet it would still fail if I bungled this next step.

So, the next step was to ‘encode’ this object.

“That which should not happen, yet does regardless -“

…That made sense, didn’t it? ‘Nothingness’ worked best for such an object, that made the impossible possible.

My finger traced its form, one eye closing, the other peering down at the wooden sphere as though trying to see through ‘its soul.’

“…There.”

Like a painter, brushing over an empty canvas, I dug my nail directly into the wood — as it slipped through it, seamlessly, almost akin to a knife into water.

Tracing ‘connections,’ ‘lines,’ ‘circuits,’ all throughout its figure — my eye remained, centred on the sphere, as though even blinking would cost me my life.

To create ‘something,’ that could bind a ‘something’ — a familiar — and even return it to what was a step before ‘nothing,’ swapping this being from ‘nothing’ to ‘something’ at a whim, without even harming the being within.

If it could even function, and work — was beyond me. Crossing one’s fingers, praying for success, was all I could do, tracing these ‘commands’ in the form of lines and connections, now sprawling over the entire sphere in glowing blue ‘cracks.’

In time, the sphere itself seemed as though held together purely from the bonds of its Connections — the ‘commands’ of what it was moved through it, like a ceramic vase broken and put together with enough glue to showcase its cracks. Lifting my nail from it, the cracks faded — turning from blue to a faint yellow, then fading entirely, leaving only the same wooden sphere I was met with.

“…Looks like the only thing left is to try and make it work.”

…I stood from my chair, fighting back a sudden pain in my chest, and lifted up the sphere — turning to the door of my barely-lit hotel room.

All that was left was to try and catch something.

—

…

…Things truly were off, here.

With all my wandering, the only animal I’d seen to date was the crow that ‘Quin’ kept close. Even so, that seemed to me an obvious familiar — something she wouldn’t take kindly to me trying to catch.

By now, I stood at an empty field — not far from the apartments, certainly, as I could still hear its chains rattling — watching the moon that lay just on the horizon, as though watching me right back.

“…Nothing.”

In time, my eyes slipped back down to the wooden sphere I gripped in my hand.

‘A wash, huh?’

…But it’s not as though it made no sense.

Even in a Singularity, the impossible did not suddenly become possible.

The moon may freeze, things may grow strange and scary — but biology, itself, would not bend to the whims of something as weak as a Singularity. Not so easily.

“…But isn’t there something you’re missing, Senpai~?”

…My eyes peered up —

—in front of me, behind me, around me—

—but found nothing.

“…I can’t quite get there now, but I can speak to you. How cute, hm~?”

“…I assume it’s convenient timing you find me aimlessly wandering around a field like a loon.”

A laugh escaped my lips, and I could almost feel BB’s mischievous gaze staring through ne.

“I… think I can help your problem. You want Cadence to have a little animal friend, right~?”

“…Yeah.”

“…Why is that, if I may ask?”

…I breathed out, and had to bite my tongue.

—

“…I don’t think Cadence will live through all of this, Master.”

—

“…I’ve got to make him smile as much as the others. He’s got enough on his plate — I want to help him take it off.”

…It seems she accepted the answer.

“Well, in that case, I have just the solution~! I’ll see if I can’t ‘hack into’ this Singularity and get you exactly what you asked for — since you asked so politely, Senpai~!”

…Even as she said that, something in front of me began to shift — shake, even.

“Didn’t you say you couldn’t come here? How can you do this?!”

“Well, Ritsy, I’ve got to try, right? What could possibly go wrong~!”

…The entire surroundings turned a deep, dark black.

“…That could go wrong!”

“Nonsense! That could, uhm, be a Darkrai! Yeah!”

“—Isn’t that what Cadence would need the least?!”

…A deep red light suddenly engulfed the field in front of me.

“—What the hell?!”

“I tried to make it a Cresselia! I tried!”

“—Are you absolutely sure about that?!”

“It’s something about this place! Everything I’m doing is—“

…Suddenly, her communications ceases.

And I was met with…

“—…—-…”

“..AA—,,,,—AAAUUAAA———AAAHH—-JAA—“

…A piercing, faltering scream.

The kind I could only imagine would come out of a nightmare.

It was this long, red, tetrahedronal thing, that was simultaneously everything and nothing around me. Surrounding me in its endless shade — almost singing, in a voice so cathartic and broken that it shifted between ‘endless pain’ and ‘desperate screaming’ while yet still feeling passionate — enjoyable.

‘Listen.’

My muscles froze.

‘Listen.’

My tongue stopped — calcified.

‘Listen.’

…

Its screaming —

—it became all I could think about.

This being —

—it wouldn’t move. It had me where I could only presume it wanted me, and yet it didn’t move a muscle.

“—AaAaAAaaAaa—“

…

…My calcified muscles —

—I could only move my arm, just that little bit.

Closing my eyes, I gently rolled the wooden sphere across what might’ve been the ground —

—and, after some seconds passed, heard a ‘click’ amongst the screams.

…

A roll—

—Another —

—…

…Another ‘click’ — and I fell to the ground, the pain in my chest feeling unending all at once.

…That sphere… would drain mana. It would drain it every time it were used — and now, just by capturing whatever that was, I found myself sprawled out across the ground of the plains, unable to so much as think about moving.

And that being — whatever BB had created — wasn’t a creature that should exist.

A step beyond even ‘something that shouldn’t exist, and yet does regardless.’

All I could tell, in that short few moments of being held in such a way, was that it were fighting for its right to exist.

Perhaps, in a way, its song was meant to validate itself.

To make it memorable, and ‘confirm’ its existence.

“…It… certainly achieved that.”

…

—

…A writer shifts its brow. A wrench in the schemes — and yet…

[I should have expected/understood as much.]

It only made sense — that beings like these Masters would find beings not unlike themselves.

…

[…It should not interfere. If it does — it could be written out far too easy to fret of.]

The writer, the director, breathes out, and raises a hand to the masked man on their left.

[Prepare yourself. If they attempt to use that… abomination, it will do itself in. Focus on your role.]

…The masked man nodded, and closed a locket on his chest — stepping away, and moving backstage.

—

—

…New Pokémon Discovered.

Adding to registry…

[♀.]

4 h Pokemon

Height: 80’3’’

Weight: 6099 lbs

Normal/Normal

A being that should not exist.

Outside of combat, it manifests as a red tetrahedron, and appears capable of sending other living creatures into and out of a ‘pocket dimension’ not unlike a Reality Marble. It appears this space is pitch black; and unlike in the real world, where it remains mute, it is capable of speaking here. However, it speaks in broken English only.

In combat, ‘reality’ notices the beast, and begins to try ‘writing it out’ of the world. This causes the being immense pain — with its only ability in this instance being to trap an opponent within its pseudo-Reality Marble, and ‘sing’ endlessly to maintain and validate its existence. Due to this, fighting with it is ill-advised.

If it is able to enter combat normally, however, it’s remarkably speedy for its weight, with decent bulk and strength befitting of its large size. It is weak to magical or special skills. Perhaps due to its unique ‘effect’ that comes with its singing, it lacks an Ability. Notably, this Pokémon inflicts extreme mental strain on its Trainer in combat due to the unique nature of its skillset, and as such, extreme precautions must be taken to ‘use’ the being normally —up to and including dedicated battlefields, with bushes in northeast corners, which seem to prevent some of this Pokémon’s more catastrophic effects.

(It appears that this Pokémon is technically a Noble Phantasm of BB, due to her being responsible for its birth. Due to this, it answers only to Cadence, BB, and BB’s closest ones.)

[therappundit]

Top 10 Rappers of 2020

The finish line of this long, surreal year is finally upon us...which means that it’s time for me to throw down the gauntlet in the ‘Best of 2020’ frivolous list race!  🙌

*Just to be clear*: this is a list of MCs who I believe turned in the best overall performances in 2020. ***This is NOT a list of the my top 10 favorite MCs***, or even who I believe to be the best MCs in the world at the moment...these are simply dope artists that put forth the strongest, most consistently interesting and important (to the genre) high-quality work in the perilous year that was 2020. 

If you think your favorite MC was slighted....well, Michael Jordan is the greatest to ever play the game of basketball but even he didn’t win MVP every year, right? I encourage you to write your own list - it’s a cool way to dap artists that are too often overlooked by industry websites, and share the music you enjoy with others that may not have given the record a spin otherwise.

Even if 2020 didn’t bring you the “instant classic” you had been hoping for, I think it’s hard to deny that this year really had impressive depth when it came to showcasing some of the most diverse music that the genre has to offer.  I can’t speak for music in general - sadly I’m just The Rap Pundit, not The Music Pundit - but I can say that it has been an impossible task to keep a playlist less than 500 songs deep at a time, because for every truly great release in 2020 there seemed to be 30 very good releases. 👌

So how did I come about these 10 MCs (and Honorable Mentions)? Before you get huffy about who I snubbed (and that is pointed directly at my jury of older head peers that consider themselves tastemakers, but also haven’t opened their minds up to any new takes on rap styles since the year 2000)...here are the five chief pieces of criteria that I put into finalizing my list:

- quality (whatever lane you’re in, how often did you ‘own it’?)

- quantity (at least 10 very good-to-great songs released, and 3-4 verses that stand out as a ‘must-hear’ for any rap music fan)

- consistency (not just 4-5 great features and a few forgettable solo tracks, will I want to keep at least 7 or 8 of your own new songs released in 2020 in my rotation for 2021?)

- impact (are you so vital to the type of rap music you make that if you stopped rapping tomorrow, there’s no one else in the game that could fill that void?)

- “it” factor (are you carried by a co-sign or an elite production team, or did you bring a style/talent to the table that could carry a record in and of itself?)

Got it? Then here we go...

1. Conway the Machine

I hope 2020 was the type of year that Conway the Machine had been hoping for since he first began his journey with rap music. After years of scraping and hustling towards music industry recognition (and not just cult figure status), at year’s end we see Griselda’s top Lieutenant holding down a rare balancing act: champion of underground hip-hop, and most requested feature by any mainstream rap star looking to add some tough-talking muscle to their album.

While much of Conway’s content has always been driven by surviving an attempt on his life in 2012, much like 50 Cent, Conway’s way with words and perspective manage to elevate the quality of his material to a higher tier than most. And where - at least in his heyday - 50 Cent benefited from an indestructible super-villain persona, Conway’s success can be greatly attributed to a larger-than-life heart.  With every braggadocious act of gunplay, there are moments of gratefulness to still being alive to share success with his brethren, as well as a painful longing to be with close allies that are no longer with him (at least not in the physical form).

Above all else, in 2020 Conway the Machine did what he has always done throughout his career: delivered well written, passionate bars about coming up in an impossibly challenging environment and coping with loss...only now his craftsmanship and understanding of how to channel all of those feelings into a more polished final product have yielded the most well-rounded solo project of his career in From King to a God. Progress is a slow process, but the long and winding road has finally taken Conway a step closer to that G.O.A.T. status he will hopefully continue to reach for...

Best Evidence: FKTG, and a countless number of scene-stealing verses alongside rap acts ranging from deep underground to household names

2. Freddie Gibbs

I don't use the word "sauce" all too often (this may actually be the first time), but if there was any MC guaranteed to bring sauce to any rap record right now, it's Freddie Gibbs. 

Forever existing somewhere between gritty gangsta and syrupy old soul, the flavor that Freddie brings to every verse is malleable enough to work on virtually any type of record, which was certainly proven in 2020. Anyone foresee a Gibbs & Alchemist Grammy nomination heading into 2020? It’s a testament to how high quality work, through consistent reliability and dues paid, can elevate a project from underground niche following to critical acclaim. While his work with Alchemist may not reach the lofty levels of his heralded collaborations with Madlib, Alfredo represents the best that “quarantine music” can offer...two talented friends saying one day, “hey we should finally drop a full tape together, why not?” - and then BOOM, it happens.

Too many fail to remember that Gibbs already has a long accomplished body of work behind him...so the fact that he may just be entering his prime now, is scary.

Best Evidence: Alfredo, Machinedrum’s “Kane Train”

3. Boldy James

Comeback MC of the year, and no it is not close (but big shout-out to Grafh, another dope MC who had an amazing year).

I'm old enough to remember when folks like Roc Marciano and Ka were seen as sleepy, monotone rappers with little hope of reaching permanent rap icon status (flash-forward to today, and they are widely consider geniuses). For some, the quieter, less hook-dependent approach to making rap songs, was....well, not great rap music. They were wrong then and they’re wrong now, but similar to how the coolest, smartest cat in the room is rarely the loudest, it can take some time and patience before everyone learns what’s what. Time is what is required to appreciate Detroit’s Boldy James, a veteran that has been through it - both in terms of the ups and downs of the music business, as well as the streets through which he draws his stories and inspiration.

Boldy makes it seem all too easy, rapping his verses with the cool, casual tone of telling old stories to a close friend over drinks. Dropping multiple projects (with one still to come) in one year can often lead to over-saturation. Even the most dedicated fans/stans can begin to feel less enthusiastic about new releases when they have already received a healthy portion of more of the same...but most rap fans are not necessarily Boldy James fans. Boldy fans (much like Roc Marciano and Ka fans) are already aware that knowing what type of material to expect from your favorite MC can be a blessing if that MC takes pride in the execution of the final product, rather than the noise leading up to it. 

The beauty of his collaboration with The Alchemist (big year for that guy, huh?), The Price of Tea in China, is that it celebrates the more subtle nuances of boom-bap, proving that great MC and producer chemistry can trump the “shock & awe” of more uptempo rap music. The shock in Boldy James’ lyrics sits within the detailed descriptions of the cold world he grew up in...so monotone or not, how can any music could be more gripping than that?

Best Evidence: TPOTIC, Manger On McNichols, a long list of consistently perfect feature verses

4. 42 Dugg

I would say this is more of a longterm investment rather than the celebration of a rapper already within rap’s inner circle, but 42 Dugg didn’t just steal the show on every feature this year, he also displayed maturity in his ability to craft well-rounded, high quality rap singles. I’m talking joints that work just as well on the street tape level as they would at the radio level. That is especially rare to see from a rapper that is still relatively new to national conversations. 

So much more than just a co-sign of Lil Baby and Yo Gotti, the Detroit eastsider has already proven that he can craft a full solo album with the swagger of a far more seasoned MC. 42 Dugg combines a Boosie-esque, "oh you think you’re better than me??” chip on his shoulder with the unpredictable bombast of Lil Wayne. What he may lack in punchlines he makes up for in musicianship, his voice bringing one of the most nimble touches to trap music that I have heard in a long time. 42 Dugg music is hard and soulful, with the natural hunger of a rapper that knows me might be one smash away from superstardom. By this time next year, I’m betting he will be. 

Best Evidence: Young & Turnt 2 (Deluxe), features on high profile records like Lil Baby’s “Grace” and “We Paid”, and a growing stream of attention grabbing solo loosies

5. Rome Streetz

In 2020 it was almost impossible to be an underground MC with a great project unless you landed a Rome Streetz verse. 

Rome has been bubbling for a while now, but in 2020 he unleashed an onslaught on the game. At times he seemed like the hardest working MC in underground circles, busting his ass to not only make as many appearances as possible, but also to own any song he guested on. He raps like every verse might be “the one” that gets him a huge contract, and that’s a level of hunger and consistency that will likely land him more than one huge contract someday. In spite of that laundry list of strong features, the young Brooklyn MC still managed to release multiple dope solo projects, all flashing a rap style that feels at once a throwback and the fresh voice NYC rap needs. 

Rome is clearly from the same school as many of the New York City greats, because he has the capacity to deliver dark, potent bars with the sharp intellect of a Harvard lecture (think AZ before “Sugar Hill”). While he sounds most at home when he’s rhyming over instrumentals that run more coldblooded than a horror flick, it’s easy to picture him popping up in more places in 2021...if that’s even possible.

Best Evidence: Noise Kandy 4, Kontraband, The Residue, and at least 50 incredible features with a who’s-who of the underground’s finest

6. Stove God Cook$

No one saw this coming....well, maybe Roc Marciano, Lord Jamar, Busta Rhymes and a few more NYC heads in the know - but I guarantee you, no one else saw the Stove God coming!

Bar for bar, no MC owned more rewind-worthy rap quotables in 2020 than Stove God Cook$. Dropping a solo debut with VERY little fanfare and zero features (apart from the steady, reliable guidance of Roc Marciano - low key one of hip-hop’s most reliable producers), a slow bubbling word of mouth campaign on social media eventually got Stove God verses exposed to more and more high profile ears. Such a grass roots campaign is rarely seen...I mean, a rap album slowly becoming a critical darling simply off the strength of more and more random folks discovering the music and Tweeting about it, as opposed to the buzz being calculated before the product??? It feels almost too good to be true these days, as early reviews of Reasonable Drought typically lead with something along the lines of, “hey, have you heard of this album? I have no idea who this is, but it is 🔥🔥🔥”

It has often been said that Roc Marciano has a lot of “sons” in the game, implying that Roc Marci gave birth to a style that a whole generation of underground MCs run with today. So it’s ironic (or perhaps highly appropriate?) that the next level of progression for Roc might be to have a protege, a young Jedi to carry on the tradition on Roc’s own terms, and become the next new star to be embraced by the old heads. But Stove God isn’t a clone of Roc, or anyone else, he’s simply one of the most exciting artists to hit the NYC underground in a generation. Everything from his word choice, to his fresh references and sense of humor, to his delivery and the way he structures his verses, feels like a collection of “firsts”, there’s simply no one sounding like him. And if his work in 2020 is any indication, he will continue to be in a league of his own for years to come.

Best Evidence: Reasonable Drought, spotlight snatching features alongside Roc Marciano and Griselda’s finest

7. Lil Baby

Once viewed by some as just another “Lil”, Lil Baby had been rollin’ coming into 2020, but by the end of 2020 it’s clear that he has arrived at the forefront of rap music’s most reliable hitmakers right now. 

A must-have feature on any rap album reaching for max exposure, Lil Baby’s dexterous flow, charisma, and pen that is significantly sharper than early reports indicated, made him one of the few shining stars in 2020 to consistently deliver good rap music to what in any other year would have been considered smash hits in any club.

What makes Lil Baby’s music standout is that he could easily be a “cookie cutter” MC, phoning in verse after verse just to get another check, but instead he continues to bring it - trying to squeeze in an extra catchy lyric, maybe flow in a way that breaks up a verse to make it stand out from the pack a little more - and even when he is featured over cookie cutter beats that sound like every other trap inspired beats that came before it, Baby seems eager to prove something. I think that’s what I like about him - he’s on a short list of mainstream-bred Young Thug disciples that seem to really want to put the work in to becoming one of the greats. 

Best Evidence: I mean...did any rap star have more songs in circulation this year? Dude was everywhere, but “The Bigger Picture” got his name officially into the lyricist conversation (even though personally I don’t even think it’s one of his more impressive records - at least not stylistically)

8. Westside Gunn

No one denies that the Griselda Records team had a banner year, yet somehow the vocal leader of the group managed to drop a handful of dope projects without receiving credit for being a great MC in his own right. Great artist, great album curator, great business man - sure, but great MC?? That credit is rarely given to the FLYGOD. He might not even understand how natural he is as a solo MC, waxing unpredictable flows and half-bars that stick in your mind in place of catchy hooks or predictable song structure. He might call himself an artist first, but I still call him one of the most prolific rappers today (regardless of whether he retires after the ball drops).

I can’t believe I have to tell rap fans this in the year 2020...but......you all know that message and punchlines are just part of the art of rapping, right...and not the only thing that defines who is a dope MC and who isn’t?? Play any solo cut from Westside Gunn and filter out the “doot-doot-doots” and stream of conscious hooks and what you are left with is one of the most distinctive voices in rap music, attempting off-kilter flows and phrases over some of the most impressive production in rap music today, and to me that sounds like my kind of rap music. What the Buffalo floor general lacks in diversity of subject matter he makes up for with a relentless imagination.

That’s why it’s not all that surprising to me that Westside Gunn enjoyed more mainstream attention in 2020 than he ever has before. All he needed was a window of exposure and he certainly capitalized on it, pitching his sound and his vision in all the right places, without compromising his style or vacating his lane. So strictly as a MC, I would consider him the Young Thug of the east coast underground scene, and if 2020 does turn out to be his final year of recording solo projects, I am thankful that he already has a long list of quality projects with high replay value to revisit again and again. But don’t wait - give this man his flowers now.

Best Evidence: “Euro Step”, “Rebirth”, “327″, “Shawn vs. Flair”, “Michael Irvin”, and YES he even had a more than worthy verse on “$500 Ounces” alongside Freddie Gibbs and Roc Marciano

9. Benny the Butcher

Who else is more reliable to deliver a dope feature verse than Benny?

By now you must be muttering at least a few things about me, so let me just make two points: YES, I am a big fan of Griselda records, but NO I do not consider that an unreasonable bias because even on paper according to a large variety of sources, it’s clear that Conway, Boldy James, Westside Gunn and Benny are true specialists when it comes to the quality of the work they distribute. Its not a fluke or a trend, they’re just that good at what they do...I have been saying this for almost 5 years now, but in 2020 the rest of you sleepy heads finally just stopped hitting snooze.

Benny the Butcher already possesses the writing capacity, attention to detail, and skills of observation/personal reflection to put himself within special company as one of the nicest pens in the business today. But in 2020, he dialed things up even higher...or perhaps word of mouth just finally caught up with the rest of his peers? The tribute to the classic Roc-A-Fella era that was his Burden of Proof project with Hit-Boy helped expose Benny to a much larger audience, and it has been beautiful to see so many more folks quoting and sharing his lyrics on Twitter, because I recall when he had about the same amount of Followers that I do, because it wasn’t all that long ago (I just hope they go back to experience all of his prior work - I’m still partial to his incredible verses on “Shower Shoe Lords” and “Pissy Work”)! 

In my not so humble opinion, I do think some of the more dramatic pomp and circumstance on the BOP album was more suited to a Rick Ross or Meek Mill than Benny, so I’m actually more excited to hear what Benny has in store for 2021. He truly sounds at his best over more minimalistic production that lets his lyrics fill the spotlight...but still, tracks like “Timeless” and “Legend” do remind me of some of my favorite moments from old JAY-Z albums...blasphemous, maybe, but true.

A shot to the leg last month seems to have done nothing to slow his momentum, so if you didn’t board the bandwagon by now, you are inexcusably late.

Best Evidence: Burden of Proof, mercilessly slaughtering every verse on every Griselda projects, and a ton of show-stealing features

10. Drakeo the Ruler

What a journey it's been for the L.A. rising star. 

Flexing a penchant for placing local slang into his music and delivering dark verses with a clear sense of humor, it's easy to see the appeal of Drakeo's style. If Thank You For Using GTL was an inspiring attempt to do anything possible to keep his buzz going (in that case, recording his verses over a prison phone), the quick release of We Know The Truth shortly after he regained his freedom seems to have given him a 50 Cent-esque teflon aura at the moment. 

But this is about more than just Drakeo himself, it’s about what he represented before incarceration, and what he represents now. As one of the more visible forces in a new generation of west coast hip-hop, Drakeo was a few key features away from exploding onto the national scene. Now after surviving his ordeal, likely with a great deal more to write about, his ceiling has only been raised - and along with his growth potential, so rises the potential for the current rap scene out in L.A. right now. Mark my words: by this time next year Drakeo’s flow will be one of the most flagrantly jacked flows in rap music coast to coast.

A sincere welcome home from the rap world, Drakeo the Ruler. Hopefully the worst is now behind you. 🙏

Best Evidence: We Know The Truth, Free Drakeo, Thank You For Using GTL

*Honorable Mentions*:

Che Noir, Ka, Ransom, Billy Woods, Royce Da 5′9″, Jay Electronica, Fly Anakin, Curren$y, Lil Uzi Vert, Roc Marciano, Skyzoo, Black Thought, Tee Grizzley, Your Old Droog, Flee Lord, Lil Wayne

[pointnumbersixteen]

Scenes from the Captain’s Edwardian Childhood: the Theater, Particularly Musical Theater and Also Peter Pan

As I noted in part one of my character analysis of the Captain, he was most likely born in 1899-ish, with the bulk of his pre-boarding school childhood spent in the Edwardian period. And what did people with spare income do for fun in Edwardian times? Theater! 

And what sort of theater? Well, before Peter Pan was a movie, it was a book, and before it was a book it was a play. The original Peter Pan played in 1904, when Cap would have been five-ish, which is about the earliest it is reasonable to take a child to the theater (although I’ve seen the very occasional well-behaved four year old) and its sequel, When Wendy Grew Up, played in 1908, when he would have been nine-ish. I bet he would have loved Peter Pan. It may have been the first play he ever saw. And the plot, children with a humdrum life and overbearing father who get taken away to a magical fairy land to go on fantastic adventures with a boy who never grew up and fight a villain that’s traditionally played by the same actor as the father, who gets eaten by a crocodile at the end? Yes, please. Sounds like just the sort of thing he would have eaten up. (Also see part one of my character analysis if you want why he probably didn’t have a good relationship with his father, if you can’t already guess.) He would have been eleven or twelve when the book came out. 

What else? Musical comedy was particularly popular in the late-Victorian period and all through the Edwardian period and foremost among the musical comedies were those of Gilbert and Sullivan, which were wildly popular and played regularly in London until Gilbert’s death in 1911 (Sullivan died in 1900, but the revivals went on without him). The Savoy Theater in London was originally built for the sole purpose of showcasing Gilbert and Sullivan operettas. The Captain’s childhood would have been filled with it. The Pirates of Penzance, from which the Major General Song that he sung in s1e2 to annoy Allison is from, as I’ve mentioned before, played when he was ten-ish. HMS Pinafore played directly before it and Patience played before that. Iolanthe, the Gondoliers and the Yeomen of the Guard played in an overlapping time period with all of the above and the Mikado played through most of it. Fallen Fairies (although it was just Gilbert, written after Sullivan was dead, and the last play written by Gilbert before he died) would have played when the Captain was ten, although it wasn’t well-received critically and didn’t play long. I think the Captain might have liked it, though. It’s ultimate theme seems to be ‘love is more trouble than it’s worth,’ which he very likely told himself most of his life. His enthusiastic and actually-pretty-good-despite-Allison’s-opinion rendition of the Major General Song points to me that he probably had a passion for the pair.

And of course, I’m sure there were plenty of things besides Peter Pan and Gilbert and Sullivan, I just find those to the most notable (and easiest to research). While it isn’t easy to try to figure out what was playing in London during a period between one hundred and ten and one hundred and fifteen years ago, I did find a few other things of interest. George Bernard Shaw’s earlier works were playing in that period. I’m not familiar enough with them to say whether or not Cap would have liked them, but maybe. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was also writing plays in that period, including at least one Sherlock Holmes play, in the summer of 1910 (probably one of the last things he saw before getting shipped off to school). There was also a stage play called The Whip in 1909 which was noted for having over-the-top-for-the-period special effects including a horse race and a train crash, that was probably very exciting. Is it the sort of thing people would have taken kids to see? Apparently, as the description of it quoted on Wikipedia is written by a person who saw it as a child in the post-London international tour phase, somewhere between the ages of eight and thirteen, if my math is right.  

So, if you want to picture a few moments of the Captain’s childhood, picture him in a theater in London, watching with rapt attention as Peter Pan sword fights with Captain Hook, laughing as poor Frederic sings about his plight being apprenticed to pirates until the age of 84 on a technicality because his birthday happens to be on the 29th of February and it only comes once every four years, wowed by however they managed to show a horse race and a train crash on stage in 1909- I don’t even know how you’d do that now- and cheering on Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson as they solve their mysteries.  

[irkimatsu]

Okay, after way too much delay - it's my Eurovision 2021 Final Ranking! This took me a while for a lot of factors - took extra hours at work to make sure I could get time off this week, some recent family events... and most relevantly, the fact that this year is so damn good that no matter what, I knew someone was going to get ripped off by ending up somewhere in the bottom half. Just know that being toward the bottom of the list doesn't necessarily mean I dislike it, especially this year - it just means I like other things more. This year is going to be an absolute bloodbath. I am both excited and terrified.

Try not to take my ranking too seriously, by the way - I'm an American who unironically listens to stuff like Scooch and Dolly Style. I'm not exactly a seasoned music critic. I just know what sort of music makes the happiness center of my brain light up, what the hell is music theory

Ranking made with the sorter at http://esc.gerbear.com/sorter2021.htm, then slightly adjusted when it put some songs concerningly low on the list. Okay, so I cheated a little

Firstly, in the interest in completion - if Belarus didn't get disqualified, they'd be in the big fat 40 rank, with a big bold "Hate" right above. Fuck that song. I've only listened to it once and am so glad I have no obligation to acknowledge it any further. Those fucking lyrics. Mother of Christ. Fuck you guys.

I also offer my condolences to Armenia for their having to bow out this year. I'm sure whatever you guys sent, it couldn't have possibly been worse than "Chains On You".

Now, for the songs that actually matter:

Indifferent:

39 – Spain - “Voy a quedarme” by Blas Cantó: Welp, already I’m gonna get shot. I can’t remember how this song sounds at all. I know it’s tender and genuine and sweet and everything… I just… kinda don’t care. Nothing to say. I liked his entry last year even more, and even that was pretty damn dull. Just not destined to be a Blas Cantó fan, I guess!

38 - North Macedonia – “Here I Stand” by Vasil: I’m with most other rankings I’ve seen; what the hell is this? I at least kinda remember it, which is more than I can say for poor Spain, but oh my god it’s so boring. I really liked “You” last year! What the hell happened, Vasil?

37 – Albania - “Karma” by Anxhela Peristeri: Another “oops” from me, huh. It’s another one I immediately forget about the instant it ends. I at least don’t remember it boring the crap out of me, hence it placing higher than Spain and Macedonia, but I still can’t say anything nice about it – or anything at all, really – so I’ll leave it this low. I acknowledge that I’m in the minority, I won’t protest if it qualifies, but personally, it’s not my pick.

36 – Georgia – “You” by Tornike Kipiani: Give him points for passion, I suppose! At least I’m not laughing at him like I was last year. On the other hand, less ridiculous also means more boring. Points for earnestness, but this is just another song that goes right over my head.

35 – Portugal – “Love Is On My Side” by The Black Mamba: An English song from Portugal? That’s new. Too bad it hasn’t rescued the song from the darkest depths of Boring. I will confess that I spice it up a little by associating it with Homura from Osomatsu-san, thus rescuing it from the deepest pits of my ranking list… but it’s still stuck down here. Portugal and I have never gotten along well Eurovision-wise. I’ve come to accept that.

34 – Slovenia – “Amen” by Ana Soklič: I’m gonna call this a song that I respect more than I like. She’s got a great voice, I can’t deny that… but when I’m ranking this purely based on what I’d go out of my way to listen to, this one falls flat. I warned you at the beginning that I have no taste! I’m not normally into straightforward ballads, the religious connotations are lost on me… this isn’t the song for me.

33 – Austria – “Amen” by Vincent Bueno: Back to back “Amen”s! Tip for getting me to like your Eurovision entry, apparently, is “don’t call your song Amen”. It’s a ballad, earnest and trying but overall not my type of music. I’m running out of ways to say that. Breakup song, a tad bitter, we’ve all heard this sort of song so many times before. It doesn’t stand out, and I think it’d be a waste of a spot in the final.

At least, I thought this was a breakup song when I first wrote this, but apparently it’s about the death of a loved one…? I would say that makes me hate the bitterness, but… given how I’m handling a death in my own family right now… god, I don’t know. I just can’t handle this song, not at any time but especially not now. It doesn’t even provide catharsis like a song later on in the list. It stays this low regardless of its meaning, I just don’t like it, I’m sorry, moving on.

…” 'Cause it all feels like you didn't even try to save us, all this time wasted on a lie”… ugh, my personal problems…

32 – Switzerland – “Tout l'Univers” by Gjon’s Tears: Another one I respect more than I like, and another opinion I’m gonna get my ass beaten for, I’m sure. I respect the artistry, but this is so far removed from anything I’d ever listen to on purpose. It might have landed even lower if I wasn’t afraid of pissing people off. I’ll understand if it wins, but I’ll also be hoping for most anything else.

31 – Russia – “Russian Woman” by Manizha: I don’t get it. Sometimes it’s pleasant enough to listen to, but overall I don’t get it. It’s unique, I’ll give it that! I understand why it won its national final, and why so many people enjoy it! But for me, it doesn’t quite cross that line between “interesting” and “enjoyable”. I'm not Russian - this isn't for me, and it wasn't supposed to be. Though I will confess that there may be some bias at play here. God, I miss Little Big…

Okay:

30 – Estonia – “The Lucky One” by Uku Suviste: The voice is okay, the music is okay, I like how the bitterness is handled here more than in Austria’s… but this is still as high as I can go on this one. It’s serviceable, but this year has so much better to offer.

29 – Sweden – “Voices” by Tusse: Sweden really does like sending the same song over and over again, huh? I don’t hate it, but it does strike me as a lesser “Too Late For Love”, sound wise. Sweden almost never takes risks, and it’s causing me to look over them more and more with every year. I respect it too much to put it in the “Indifferent” category, but given how the rest of my ranking played out, this the best I can do for it. (But again, do not trust the opinions of someone who teethed on cheesy Europop and fondly remembers when Sweden was flooded with the stuff…)

28 – Belgium – “The Wrong Place” by Hooverphonic: Once again, Hooverphonic help Belgium fill the role of Eurovision’s “Most Likely To Appear In A Bond Movie” song. It’s fine. It’s a song! I don’t know what else to say about it! It does its job well enough, it’s just not really a job I care for that much.

27 – Ireland – “Maps” by Lesley Roy: It’s cute enough! A cute little radio tune. It’s no “Story Of My Life”, though. If “22” couldn’t qualify then this probably won’t, either, and I can’t say I’ll miss it all that much. Still pleasant enough when it comes up on the shuffle.

26 – Bulgaria – “Growing Up Is Getting Old” by Victoria: I admit it, this ranks as high as it does because of anime and that’s basically it. If I was still doing plain category sortings this would have landed straight in “Biased”. My favorite anime is about a bunch of 20-somethings learning that growing up sucks and trying as hard as possible to avoid it, and I first heard this song around the same time that I watched that show’s relatively melancholy season finale, so it ended up sticking with me on that note. Don’t have much to say about it musically, just that it makes me picture sextuplets crying and that’s one of my hobbies, so I’ll grant it an “Okay”. (It may also worth noting that if I heard this song before 2019, in the state my life was in before then it would have probably left me too inconsolable to listen to it more than once. Growing up is growing old indeed!

…it’s also worth noting that after I wrote this blurb, a major event happened that really enforced that growing up is getting old, so I listened to this quite a bit for a few days, among some other non-Eurovision songs. I’m probably gonna have an emotional breakdown on Thursday when this one starts. So, um, look out for that, guess. Between this one and Austria’s, I swear to god…)

25 – Italy – “Zitti e buoni” by Måneskin: I’ve been trying to get this one to rank higher, I really have, but its inability to crack the top 20 just says a lot about how damn good this year is. It sounds great, it’s very well done, and I wouldn’t hate to see it win! It’s earned its popularity. Everything holding it back in my own personal ranking is just that, personal – I do lose something when I can’t sing along or understand the lyrics, and there’s another rock song this year that I like way better. Still wishing you guys the best!

24 – Netherlands – “Birth Of A New Age” by Jeangu Macrooy: This song has a great style that I respect a lot. The message, the vibe – even if it’s not a culture I’m a part of, I feel and appreciate the hell out of it, and I really hope it does well. I don’t understand why so many people seem to think it’s not interesting! It may not be the sort of thing I’d go out of my way to listen to, but I’m glad it’s here. Catch me singing out “Yu no man broko mi” on Saturday! It’s been a while since I’ve given a shit about a host country’s entry, so I’m really glad for this one.

23 – Romania - “Amnesia” by Roxen: I’ll admit something else unpopular – I hated “Alcohol You” last year. Didn’t see what the big deal was at all. It sounded okay, I guess, but the lyrics were so pretentious and awful, and I’ve never liked the topic of “I love you even though you have no redeeming qualities whatsoever and you make me feel like shit”. But it seems like in that year, Roxen has discovered that self-love is important, actually, and it’s not worth it spending your time on some shitbag who consistently disappoints you. I appreciate it for that alone. Character growth! Plus, I feel the whole thing of “forgetting how to love yourself because everyone around you sucks”. It’s not the perfect song, not by a long shot, but it has a nice melody, and Roxen has a nice voice. It’s good to hear her using that voice on something I don’t find obnoxious.

22 – Norway – “Fallen Angel” by TIX: Okay, I’ll admit it, this is one where I watched the live video the first time I heard the song, and I was too busy laughing at his outfit to take the song seriously. Jesus Christ, dude, what the hell. Well, that’s Eurovision for you, and the more I listened to it, the more I admitted to myself that I’m a sucker for “I love you but letting you go for your own good, not sure what I ever offered you in the first place” type songs. Knowing the song is inspired by his own disability and self-loathing really twists that knife, to the point where I feel bad that I almost threw this at an anime character. I know I’m usually cold on songs that try to evoke emotions about the singer’s personal problems – Germany 2018, and this year’s Austrian entry – but this one really works for me. Only reason it’s in “Okay” tier is because of its competition – it’d rank way higher in a weaker year.

21 – France – “Voila” by Barbara Pravi: I like a good waltz, I guess! It’s a unique number, and the French language sounds nice, especially with the music. It’s yet another example of how this year is filled with so many interesting entries that I appreciate the hell out of. God bless this diverse year! (Or maybe everything just sounds so good to me because last year’s cancellation left me in withdrawal.) I expect a really nice performance for this one – this song isn’t one you can perform while just standing there, especially not during that speedup toward the end.

20 – Australia – “Technicolour” by Montaigne: That song that sounds like it’s about stripping if you don’t know that she’s saying cloaks. (Guilty as charged.) It’s catchy and fun, and I really love it when it first starts… but unfortunately, it does wear out its welcome toward the end of things. It’s a good party song, just a little repetitive. I still like it just fine, and wouldn’t mind seeing her in the final this year! Hope the performance is colorful and sparkly, it’d suit the song well

Like:

19 – Germany – “I Don’t Feel Hate” by Jendrik: I know stereotyping is bad but I was not remotely surprised to find out that Jendrik is gay. This song is pure gay sass, and god, I love every minute of it. I fully expect it to fall on its ass – this wouldn’t make it to the final if it wasn’t an automatic qualifier – but I’ll have a grand old time watching it! The sarcastic lyrics, the cheerful little ukulele, the middle finger costume… this song is a delight. Only thing that I think really brings it down is that weird spoken bit that interrupts the song. That’s so annoying, brings me right out of it. And I did purposely rank it below songs that aren’t complete shitposts. But thank you for your existence, Jendrik, your contribution to Eurovision is much appreciated.

18 – Israel – “Set Me Free” by Eden Alene: I said it this year and I’ll say it again this year, Eden Alene is a goddess of a woman. Absolutely gorgeous. Appreciation for pretty women aside, it’s a fun party song in a sea of fun party songs! I really do like it, I like her voice, but there’s so much else this year that drowns it out – not much stands out here compared to later entries on the list. Still a good song, though.

…and I do not expect for an instant that this is going to make it to the final. …my personal ranking is based on how the song sounds, okay? Just the song. Just the song. Nothing else. Just the song. Anyway…

17 – United Kingdom – “Embers” by James Newman: What’s this? A UK entry I don’t find bland as off-white paint? That doesn’t happen often! I didn’t like his entry last year, romantic ballad bla bla bla whee, but I’m always down for a good party song. It’s a little generic and radio friendly, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s not fun as hell to sing along with!

16 – Greece – “Last Dance” by Stefania: I really liked last year’s “Supergirl”, but figured it didn’t have too much of a chance because it struck me as being a little too teen poppy to be taken entirely seriously. It seems like Greece thought so, too, because they’ve ramped it up with this year’s entry. They’re not playing around anymore, sending a grand, powerful song that, like “Embers”, is fun as hell to belt. This is another one I’m really looking forward to the live performance for – the music video is gorgeous, and I hope they capture that same majesty on stage!

15 – Moldova – “Sugar” by Natalia Gordienko: Oh, Moldova, I’m so glad you guys decided to be completely batshit again this year. I’ve missed your nonsense so much. Dancing ice cream cones. Cake men. This video is glorious. And the song goes well with the insanity! A catchy dance tune that can only be improved with downright insane staging. Please let the dancing ice cream cones be on stage, I’m begging you

14 – Latvia – “The Moon Is Rising” by Samanta Tina: A unique electronica number backed with a powerful as hell voice. I can see where all the wubbing would get on people’s nerves, but personally, I love it! I love the voice, I love the attitude, Samanta just oozes confidence, and if she doesn’t make it to the final it’s not gonna be because she didn’t give it her goddamn all.

13 – Poland – “The Ride” by RAFAL: Why is this one so unpopular? You people don’t know how to have fun. Yeah, yeah, last year’s “Empires” was a powerful song… but I like my club nonsense much more, so I’m favoring this one. Yet another song that gets me pumped – this whole Contest is gonna leave me with a smile on my face, there’s so much good party music

12 – Azerbaijan – “Mata Hari” by Efendi: Yeah, they’re basically just sending “Cleopatra” again, but “Cleopatra” was so goddamn good that I can’t even blame them for it. This song needed a chance to compete, and I’m glad it’s getting it again this year. I like it so much that I can even forgive the line about being a “godless”. Oh, Europop, don’t you ever change.

11 – Cyprus – “El Diablo” by Elena Tsagrinou: Huh, I didn’t know Cyprus had perfected their Lady Gaga cloning technology. Neat. More seriously, the early 2010’s club vibe of this song is exactly my jam, enough that I can forgive the “I’m in love with a horrible person” theme. (I think I forgive that theme a lot more from catchy party songs than heartfelt ballads I’m actually supposed to feel for.) Hell, I even like the creepy chanting! Sure, it’s a little cheesy, but cheese is always a good ingredient when used in moderation.

(How many songs are we going to get this year, not just in Eurovision, about wanting to fuck devils? I mean, not that I don’t get it… mmm, Akuma Ichimatsu… um. Anyway.)

10 – Czech Republic – “Omaga” by Benny Cristo: And here we enter the top ten of a strong year, where I’d love to see any of them win! Benny, what is with that title. Why. Ah well, like I said earlier, I do like moderate amounts of cheese, and this song is more than fun enough to have earned itself a ridiculous lyric or two. It’s unique, I’ll give it that! The song is just so bouncy and fun that I manage to ignore how pushy the singer is. Another one I expect big things from the staging for.

9 – Lithuania – “Discoteque” by The Roop: Ignoring the current events that surely inspired the song, I do love the more generic “party song for introverts” read on it – if only you knew how many one-person dance parties I’d had in my own house. This song speaks to me deeply. I can’t even begin to call it a joke song; I think it’s doing exactly what it set out to do, and it’s doing it oh so well. God, those synths. Totally okay with dancing alone!

8 – Iceland – “10 Years” by Daði og Gagnamagnið: I want Daði Freyr to adopt me. I don’t even care that he’s younger than me. He’s just such an earnest, fun guy, and I love his 8-bit aesthetic! And come on, he submitted a song about how much he loves his wife! If I ever stop loving this song it’s because my heart shriveled and died. Love isn’t dead, it’s just in chiptune now. I will throw things if this doesn’t make it into the final, do you all have no souls, this is too damn cute

7 – Serbia – “Loco Loco” by Hurricane: Another group I am so excited to see return, because I adored “Hasta La Vista”. I don’t know if I like this one quite as much, but it’s still catchy as hell! I love trying to sing along with it despite not knowing a word of Serbian.

6 – Croatia – “Tick-Tock” by Albina: Another catchy-ass club song! What more can I say? I love how much of this stuff we got this year. I will absolutely be screaming “Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go!” Oh god that was cheesy… I’ve been working on this ranking for too long. Don’t know what else to say about this one, just that I adore it. Just barely missed the top 5.

Love:

5 – Malta – “Je Me Casse” by Destiny: This girl’s got pipes– not surprised to hear she won the Junior contest before! I get major “Toy” vibes from this song, and you all know just how much I adored that one. Aaa, those horns! Expecting big things from you, Destiny! We may have our winner!

4 – San Marino – “Adrenalina” by Senhit – As much of a soft spot I had for last year’s “Freaky”, I don’t think it was gonna make it into the final, unless Senhit had the blessing of the same angels who were looking out for Serhat in 2019. This one, though? San Marino tasted the final two years ago and they are never giving it up again! This song goes hard! Love the song, love the video’s aesthetic, I even kinda like Flo Rida’s rap, even though I’m still baffled by the idea that I have been regularly listening to a song featuring Flo Rida on purpose. I don’t know what he’s doing here but I’m glad he is. Please, please make it to the final, San Marino! You clearly want the hell out of it this year! Favorite club song in a year of amazing club songs.

3 – Finland – “Dark Side” by Blind Channel: After spending about five seconds disappointed that Finland wouldn’t be sending Pandora this year, I gave this song a shot, and was not expecting what it gave me. I feel like an angsty middle schooler again, and it is bliss. This is everything Hatari wanted to be, but unlike Hatari who just confused me, I absolutely love the hell out of this song. …some of those lyrics, though. “27 Club, headshot, we don’t wanna grow up”? Yikes. But as dark and questionable as it might be, I can’t help but get pumped when I hear it. Definitely my favorite rock song of the year – sorry, Italy!

2 – Denmark – “Øve os på hinanden” by Fyr & Flamme: I love you, 1983. I don’t care how dated it is when my entire soul consists of a disco ball. The song’s so damn cute! This is the one member of my top 5 that I’m most terrified of losing – I know it’s not popular, with everyone calling it dated, but my top 5 always has that dated song that I love the hell out of becauseit sounds so classic. The translated lyrics are adorable, too. Even if you guys flame out in the semi, you’ll live on in the disco in my heart.

Favorite:

1 – Ukraine – “Shum” by Go_A: Holy fucking shit. There’s something about the blending of traditional and electronic that gets me hyped – see KEiiNO – and this one does not disappoint. The last minute of this is the best minute of Eurovision this year, and god, the buildup! I don’t even know Ukrainian but I am trying my damnedest to get the lyrics down, phonetically, at least. You know that “dancing goths” meme video? That’s me whenever this song comes on, especially during that speed up. Love the hell out of it. Could Ukraine be on its way to another victory already? I sure hope so, because this song fucking rules. Definitely checking out the rest of the discography someday, if all of their songs are in this folktronica style then they’ve gotta be a treat to listen to. Go Ukraine!

Ideal Qualifiers (favorite of each semi in bold):

Semi 1

Australia

Azerbaijan

Croatia

Cyprus

Israel

Lithuania

Malta

Norway

Romania

Ukraine Semi 2:

Czech Republic

Denmark

Finland

Greece

Iceland

Latvia

Moldova

Poland

San Marino

Serbia

This is definitely not what's going to happen - there is no universe where Switzerland and Sweden don't make it - but it'll be interesting to compare the reality to my hopes.

Let's go, Eurovision 2021

[kannra21]

@owishi Asdfghjkhgfds I want to write sum HCs rn! 😆✨✨

~o0o~

After a successful photoshoot the MCPTF duo took for a detective magazine, Haru bashfuly thanked the camera crew for their work and started to gather his belongings. After a couple of seconds he didn't see Daisuke moving much from his spot at the studio backdrop so he decided to check on him.

Daisuke was still standing there, petting a beautiful cat on his shoulders. He was smiling for the first time in a long time and Haru couldn't help himself but to tease him a little.

"You have a soft spot for kittens, huh Kambe?" "Huh?" "You love animals don't you?" "Don't get the wrong idea. Just because I helped that little boy with a dog back the-" "I get it, no need to get so self-defensive." Haru approached the two and pet the cat as well. Daisuke continued "We had a family cat back in the days but she died from a kidney failure." "I'm sorry to hear that." "Pedigree cats are always difficult to maintain."

He then approached the studio producer and asked "What's the name?" while pointing at the purring ball of fluff. "Oh the name's Kumo-" "No, I meant the name of the breed." "It's a Maine Coon my good sir."

Daisuke took his phone, dialed a number and a lovely lady could be heard on the opposite line "Yes, Daisuke-sama?" "Suzue, do we have all the predispositions that satisfy the adoption of a cat?" "I mean yes but we can't charge a butler to take responsibility for everything. Consider chipping, regular visits to the vet, special shampoos, nail clippers, toothbrushes, specialized treats, eye drops, litter box, toys, climbing frames, there are many factors which need to be taken care of Daisuke-sama. Besides, it's been such a long tim-" "Alright"

Daisuke ended the phone call with a dissatisfied sigh before asking quietly "How much?" to which Haru needed to interfere. "Didn't Suzue-san just tell you not to take a cat home?" and Daisuke gave him an annoyed side-glance "I'll figure something out."

When he arrived to the mansion in his Bentley Continental GT, he glanced at the backseat to address the feline comfortably lying in the fancy pet carrier. "You better not make a sound, understood?" to which the cat just purred in satisfaction. Daisuke felt so silly at this moment, like a little boy hiding a broken vase from his mother.

When he was about to enter the mansion, he accidentally walked on Suzue typing something on her tablet. She looked up and was delighted to see Daisuke coming home safe and sound. Daisuke stood at the doors, one side of his body peering from the corner while the other with a cat was hidden behind the wall. "Welcome back Daisuke-sama, the crack-open naengmyeon is already served on the table, you can take your seat." "Actually, I was planning on doing something else beforehand. Would you please excuse me for a moment?" "Of course." Suzue turned around and waited for him in the dining room. And although Daisuke was very good at keeping his serious demeanor, Suzue still noticed that something was off, with the tone of his voice for instance. It was very faint but Suzue was able to recognize things like this since she knew him so well. Still, she decided not to question him about it.

Daisuke entered his room and laid the pet carrier on the floor. Opening the zipper, the cat jumped out and rolled cozily on his bed. Daisuke held his phone and took a picture. He decided that he couldn't leave it by itself so he went downstairs to the storeroom where he took a litter box and filled it with old newspapers just in case.

After that he joined Suzue for lunch, they talked about Daisuke's photoshoot and Suzue's data she collected on certain people regarding a case. Daisuke told her that the magazine will be published in three weeks or so and Suzue was so happy she promised that she'll be the first costumer to buy it. Daisuke smiled more around Suzue after he let go of his past and threw his father into the jail. Now that all the bad things are behind him, he can finally indulge in his life and pay more attention to Suzue to whom he has yet to make up for all she has done for him over the years. He's thinking about marrying her soon.

While they were eating and pleasantly chatting, a high pitched "mrow" could be heard from the upper floor.

"What was that?" Daisuke let out a dry cough and said "My apologies. It seems that I needed to take a thicker coat before leaving for an appointment." "But.. you always pay attention to things like this." "It's true, but today I was a little late, had other things to do." "Don't overwork yourself, you need to think about your health." "Seems like you need to take better care of me.", he said with a smirk plastered on his lips to which Suzue just laughed and replied "You're so spoiled." and he scooted closer to her whispering "But I like it better when you do it.", and almost kissed her before the two heard a soft thud coming from the above.

"Excuse me for a moment, I need to check what's happening up there. Will be right back.", maybe the moment was ruined but he kissed her forehead nonetheless and went upstairs, leaving her full-hearted and all mushy inside. Her mind was so hazed from the thought of Daisuke kissing her forehead and almost kissing her lips that she didn't register the cause of his concern.

When he arrived to his room he had things to behold; scattered papers and documents all over the floor and the ashtray he typically used after his "adventurous nights with Suzue" was lying on the ground right next to the nightstand. The cat was sitting on his working table licking her paw as if nothing of this concerned her in the slightest. Daisuke sighed in disappointment and put her back in her "baby jail". She already gave him such a hard time but he couldn't be angry with her, she was his baby (yes he already considered himself a dad for god's sake).

Since they already finished with their meals, Suzue went back to her tech room to finish her work and Daisuke took the opportunity to place some meat and water on small plates and bring it to his naughty little friend.

The cat calmed down instantly after she ate and went straight to sleep. Daisuke couldn't believe his own eyes, the audacity, the sheer amount of spoilage this creature showed was unreal. It reminded him so much of himself and he smiled a little. He really missed having a cat.

After he cleaned up and finished his other tasks, he laid on the bed next to her and pet her soft white fur, making her purr louder and snuggle up beside him. Daisuke knows that Suzue is not stupid and that she'll eventually catch up on him sneaking behind her back to give Furry Elise treats (yes her name is Furry Elise, "Für Elise" might be one of Beethoven’s best-known piano pieces and Daisuke knows how to play it too).

And it actually happened that same night. Daisuke was about to fill her small plate with more meat when he met Suzue in the kitchen and she asked him what he was doing. He instantly gave up because it would be so blatantly obvious and incredibly stupid of him to say that he was trying out a new weight-losing tip when no one in this god-forsaken world ate raw chicken.

So he took her to his room and showed her Furry Elise. And although the cat purred really loudly upon seeing them, Suzue wasn't happy about it. In fact, she looked really disappointed and Daisuke needed to apologize. He explained her how it happened and how he wished to have a pet after a really long time. He thought she liked cats as well and therefore concluded that it wouldn't be such a big deal to adopt this cute little feline she loved so much, but apparently it was, so he asked her one more time why she was so reluctant to the whole idea of owning a cat again.

Suzue now shredded a couple of tears and Daisuke was seriously alarmed upon seeing her like this so he carefully cupped her with his hand behind her back and hugged her, asking why she was crying all of a sudden.

"It's just.. I don't want to go though this all over again." "What are you talking about?" "You see, my parents died, your parent died, our previous cat died so soon. I'm living in fear every day and asking myself if something's going to happen to you as well, that's why I'm so excessively worrying about you. And everything I need right now is another sweet creature that I love so much leaving us again. I don't think I'd be able to handle it anymore."

"Suzue.. I never thought..", Daisuke kissed her head and felt a big amount of guilt dawning on him. He was so selfish for only thinking about what made him happy without considering Suzue's emotions. But then he reclaimed his mind and tried to concentrate on saying the right thing. Hopefully he can make her feel better again.

"Suzue, my dear, you shouldn't limit yourself to things that make you happy. It's not healthy. You see, none of us is eternal; neither you, nor me, nor this kitten down there looking at you with so much love in her eyes. But for that very reason that none of us is eternal, we should dedicate our time to one another and make most of it. So please don't deny yourself or your feelings. Instead of dwelling on the sad things, we should concentrate more on our time spent together and be happy, okay?"

Even Daisuke didn't know how he managed to word it this nicely but he did and he realized that both of them were crying by now. They shared a passionate kiss but got interrupted by a small furball rubbing on their feet like it wanted to share a hug as well and Suzue smiled through tears.

She squatted and carefully took the cat in her hands. "What's her name?" "Furry Elise." Suzue now needed to laugh so much and she hadn't even recovered from her previous emotional outburst.

"I love it, you're really good at this.. it's.. the song you used to play for me all the time before you went studying overseas."

He looked at her with so much love and adoration at this exact moment.

"Know what? I think I'm falling for you all over again, Mr. Millionaire." Daisuke swore, his heart was full that night and no money could ever compare to this feeling.

@daisuzuship @innovativestruggles @narcopharmacist @unholysoggytea @riaymei @ieatcrumbs @cow-goes-oof @matchabucks @bluegleeful @levi-is-heicho @kakooshi @kokorokai @darknessrxse @fluffyyagiza @geniusmeemee @sungmnnnn @koalarin @alstroemerie @petiamaximoff38 @hellohellokookie @marialenikiforov

It's daisuzu stuff so I hope you enjoy. If you want me to delete your tag you're free to tell me. 👍

[fascination-street-writing]

Stationary Traveler | Chapter I | Prosciutto x F!Reader

In which Prosciutto enlists the aid of a waitress to fulfill a hit placed on two former members of Passione.

Chapter Content Warnings: Smoking & Alcohol Consumption

“How long do I have?”

“One month.”

Prosciutto lifts the blazing cigarette to his lips and nods. Smoke fills the cavities of his lungs and pockets in his mouth. It permeates through the room. Flipping the filter in his grasp, he offers the cigarette to Risotto. Contemplation flashes across his red eyes, yet he does not take it. Prosciutto knows better than to press the matter.

Instead, Risotto thumbs through the dossier atop the desk. Reports and photographs adorn the pages, crudely stamped into place by wired paperclips and transparent tape. “You’re going to Calabria,” the silver-haired man states. “They bled Volpe dry before they fled. But they were sloppy and got caught selling the Boss’s own product outside of his territory.”

They – the targets: Caponata and Tortano.

“They left a trail,” Prosciutto comments, bleakly.

“Indeed, and it turned cold in Calabria two months ago – Tropea, specifically. But we know that they’re still there. Passione has no reach in Vibo Valentia: that territory still belongs to one of the remaining families from La ‘Ndrangheta. There’s a man who owns a restaurant in Tropea. His name is Ditalini Mina. He orchestrates a narcotics ring there, and he pays Passione directly for protection.”

Prosciutto stubs his spent cigarette against the crystalline ashtray. “And?”

“Caponata came to Ditalini,” Risotto says. “And Ditalini sold him out – but he doesn’t know this. You need to get to Ditalini, though he won’t speak to you; it won’t matter to him whether you are from Passione or not. Know this: the Boss has specified that the restaurant owner should not to be harmed. Unless, of course, you find out that he has been in fact aided Caponata.”

“You want me to kill him if he betrayed the Boss,” Prosciutto repeats. “I’m assuming I won’t be compensated any more for this. Why bother?”

Risotto says nothing of the backhanded comment. He points to the roster of Ditalini’s employees. A stack of photograph makes for supplementary viewing. “I recommend that you acquaint yourself with one of his staff – find out what they know before taking matters into your own hands. It might help you to avoid unneeded attention, should you find that the man is working for Caponata.”

The photographs shift as Prosciutto lays them out before him. He notes that only two women work for the man: Farinata Pavone and [Y/N] Una. Either of them will suffice. In his experience, he has found that the lips of a target are easily loosened by expensive gifts or sex. It is a horrible thing to do, using someone like that, and one that he reserves as a last-resort option.

“Ditalini frequents Di Maccu several times a week. But he never goes alone. Perhaps you should start there.”

With a sharp nod, Prosciutto closes the dossier and tucks it betwixt his arm and torso. His evening will be spent pouring over its contents, committing every face and every name to memory. “When do I leave?” he finally asks.

“Tomorrow morning.”

Prosciutto sighs. He cares little for unnecessarily arduous contracts, and this is no exception – he is paid to take lives, not to play detective. Yet, he is grateful for the work.

“I suppose I better start packing then,” he concludes with a sigh. After all, this job has never been easy.

The air within Di Maccu smells faintly of cinnamon and bergamot, courtesy of the incense burning atop the mantle of the sealed fireplace. An English song echoes through the speakers. The words are foreign to many of the bar’s occupants; yet this has never stopped the younger crowds from swaying in their seats as they upheld conversations amongst each other.

For un mercoledì sera, the bar is considerably full. The table nearest to the front door is occupied by three employees from the restaurant Il Basilico Sospeso: Farinata, a waitress and woman of twenty-six with a deep affinity for clubbing; Pandoro, a line cook who had first been hired as a young boy assigned to washing dishes; and the owner Ditalini Mina, an older man who colors the silver steaks in his greying hair with gawdy black dye like epoxy paint.

As she lowers the martini, Farinata’s voice slips from her mouth in chorus to the young pop-star’s ballad. In the waitress’s state of unassuming lucidity, she effortlessly slips into the foreign language of the singer and hums along.

Ditalini smirks over the rim of his frosted pint glass. Pandoro releases a cloud of white smoke into the air before offering his cigarette to the singing woman. She plucks it from his fingers with greed. Her red lipstick stains the wax paper. Ditalini taps the face of his studded watch. “What’s taking her so long?” he asks, his speech cutting above the music.

Farinata shrugs and flicks ashes away from the smoldering cigarette. “Maybe she died,” she says in a tone that might suggest that she is only joking. “I’ll text her.”

Pandoro leans back in his chair and points towards the window that hangs above their table. “No need,” he insists. “Here she comes now.”

The door opens, sending a ring through the cramped bar as the bell above the arch jingles. Several patrons turn to observe you – the new customer – but mostly everyone else remains focused on their own drinks. Hair sticks to your face, plastered by a light sheen of sweat. You slump down in the unoccupied chair across from Ditalini. Your coworkers gawk at you with grins. You wonder if Pandoro knows that his bottom row of teeth is filled with rot.

“Took you long enough!” Farinata berates.  She holds the cigarette out to you, which you promptly refuse and instead move to fix your own hair via the guidance of your reflection in the window.

“Sorry I’m late,” you huff, digging through your purse for your money and photo identification card. “Trish needed help with her book report.”

“A book report?” Pandoro snorts. “This late in the evening?”

“Did I mention how it’s due tomorrow morning and she waited until tonight to start it?”

Ditalini brushes away fallen cigarette ashes with the back of his hand. “Well, you sister set you an hour back,” he chortles. “You have a lot of catching up to do – go on, get your drink. We’re not going anywhere.”

You do not need to be told twice. The sound of your kitten heels clacking off the brick floors is lost to the thrum of laughter and music. The line at the end of the bar is wrapped all the way back to the jukebox. The only empty barstool is the second one from the rightmost end, nearest the line, and is sandwiched between two men. The first man strikes up a conversation with the woman to his left – who, you think, is admittedly too pretty for him. The second man stares at the bottles of fruit-flavored rums straight ahead of him. You cannot help but to notice his peculiarly styled hair, held in place by four vertically braided buns at the back of his blonde head.

You weigh your options and decide that you do not have the patience (for it never has been a virtue of yours) to stand in the line. So, you settle for the barstool. It creaks beneath your weight and scuttles against the floor. The bartender – aptly Maccu himself – takes your awaiting identification card. His trained eyes scan over the finest details of lamination and creasing. Satisfied that you are of the legal drinking age, he returns the card and places a cork coaster before you.

“What can I get for you?” he asks.

“A vodka cranberry, per favore.”

“Lime?”

“Sì, grazie.”

“Any preference for your vodka?”

You clutch the wad of cash in your hand. “Whatever’s cheapest,” you specify.

“Make it a Grey Goose.” Maccu’s head snaps in the direction of the raspy tone belonging to the blonde man seated next to you; the man’s interjection has surprised you both. “Put it on my tab.”

With a quick smile, the bartender reaches for the top-self liquors. “Thank you,” you tell the man beside you. “But you didn’t need to do that.”

"Forgive my intrusion. It’s just that you look like someone who’s had a difficult day,” he nonchalantly insists, as if it is his custom to buy expensive drinks for strangers. You take note of your appearance in the wall mirror; its honesty is frightening compared to the sight that greeted you in the window. You swipe the back of your hand across your puffed, swollen eyes – you have bled your makeup dry. “None of that cheap American shit is going to make you feel any better. In fact, I would hardly call it vodka.”

You humor him: “That’s an astute observation. My mother isn’t doing well – that’s all.”

He hums to himself and returns to the bourbon that has been watered down by the melting block of ice. Despite his initial cordiality, he has made it painfully obvious that he does not genuinely wish to hold a conversation with you. Perhaps it is because of the bombshell you have only just dropped – perhaps you have killed the mood.

You were not late this evening because of Trish’s procrastination over a school assignment; in truth, there is no book report either. Your tardiness could only be blamed by an urgent phone call from your mother’s doctor. It is a challenge in and of itself to face your coworkers (whom you do not entirely care for) when you have just been told that your mother is dying.

Maccu places your purple drink atop the coaster. You thank him and squeeze the lime into the glass. Loosened seeds filter past the floating ice cubes and settle at the bottom of the glass like sediment. Your mother may be close to death’s door, but you deserve a night out nonetheless; Trish herself had insisted it.

You turn to the blonde man. “My name’s [Y/N], by the way.”

He looks up from his drink and offers his name with a faint smirk: “Prosciutto.”

You take a sip of your beverage and wince at the chill that bites at your teeth. Though your coworkers are waiting for your return, you refuse to go back. Considering your circumstances, it is not the best night to put up with Farinata’s drunken clinginess or Pandoro’s eccentricities, or to mask your annoyances with geniality.

This goes without saying that Ditalini brings about an entirely new level of discomfort for you; he unnerves you to your very core. You have worked for him for months now, and still that feeling of anxiousness gnaws at you every time you see him. In the beginning, it had been the intimidation – that he is your boss and you a new employee with limited work experience. He never hesitated to reprimand you in front of the others whenever you over-poured liquor or lost track of the rotation. But you were quick to learn. You had to be.

Ditalini has high expectations, and waitstaff is expendable.

You remember the night of the incident too clearly. You were leaving for the evening, and you used the backdoor that lead to the parking lot to exit the restaurant. And there, just before the dumpsters, stood your boss and a customer. You recognized the latter as one of your own patrons, and he had left you a sizeable tip. He held an oddly shaped parcel in his hands. Ditalini paged through a booklet of money. You had not meant for them to see you.

Ditalini’s reaction to your unwarranted intrusion had consisted only of a simple wave and a toothy grin. Among many things, you like to think that you are not a terribly ignorant person. It is not exactly a secret to the locals of Tropea that Ditalini had come from old mafia family roots, or that he used Il Basilico Sospeso as his own money-laundering scapegoat. The restaurant simply could not get by on selling underpriced beers and antipasto platters alone. You often wonder whether cocaine sales are tax deductible or not.

The very next day, Ditalini had pulled you into his office and ushered you to sit in the armchair across from his oak desk. The leather crinkled upon contact, contorting like the skin of a spoiled plum. You felt as if you were in a doctor’s office, under the scrutiny of a specialist; your boss certainly watched you the same way as your former family practitioner. You were prepared to be fired or shot in the head. Instead, Ditalini merely requested that you accompany him and the others on their weekly sojourns to Di Maccu.

You were quick to suspect the man’s ulterior motives: he sought to placate your silence with a false sense of comradery.

Downing the rest of your drink, you glance over at the table. Ditalini peers at you and rolls his emptied glass in the air as if he is contemplating another round. You turn away with a shudder. Regret is a familiar friend – you chastise yourself for finally caving into his request. You set your finished glass on the coaster. The man, Prosciutto has downed his bourbon as well. He places a hand inside his dark blue suit jacket; the sleeve shimmies up his arm just enough to reveal a silver-plated wristwatch. The corner of an MS cigarette carton pokes through his inner jacket pocket.

“Do you smoke?” he suddenly asks you.

Your eyes meet his steel-blue gaze. You think, as you take in his composed appearance, that he looks out of place in this bar. An expertly tailored suit and a large gold pendant hanging from his neck – not to mention his wristwatch – are not part of the typical uniform of the usual crowd. Di Maccu is certainly not the glitzy cocktail bar that would otherwise compliment Prosciutto’s fashion choices. He cocks a blonde eyebrow at you; you realize that your hesitation to respond has irked him.

“No, I don’t,” you tell him. Even his cigarettes are expensive.

He nods before resting his coaster on top of his bourbon glass. His form disappears as he slips through the backdoor and into the parking lot. Before he slipped away, you noticed a silver-plated lighter in his hand. It matches his wristwatch.

There is no policy that prohibits smoking inside of Maccu��s bar. Farinata and Pandoro have already demonstrated that. And yet, the handsome blonde stranger dubbed Prosciutto took himself outside to do it. Perhaps his decision was made of respect – otherwise, it came from an unspoken desire to escape from the noise confined within the bar’s walls.

Maccu comes by to collect your empty glass. “How much was my drink?” you ask him.

“13,000 lire.”

You count the proper amount and tuck it beneath Prosciutto’s cup. While you appreciate his gesture of goodwill, you cannot allow him to pay for your drink. You know well enough that a stranger in a bar would only do such a thing if he was looking for a quickie in the bathroom. Tonight is not the night for that.

Your purse begins to vibrate. You sort through discarded gum wrappers and dried mascara cartilages to find your cell phone. The bright green light of its face glares up at you

Trish – 2 New Messages:

            can u come home

            please i dont want 2 b alone

Ditalini stops you at the door. His hand rests on your bare shoulder, his skin calloused like sandpaper. You tug away from him, cautious not to draw attention from your other coworkers. “Is everything alright, bella?” he questions; the slur of his speech implies his intoxication, as if you could not already detect it on his breath.

You nod fervently and clutch your purse. “Trish needs my help again, that’s all,” you tell him. You feign disappointment. This seems to please him. “So, I’m heading home.”

“Would you like me to drive you? It’s late, you know.”

“No, grazie però.” You reply too hastily, but he does not notice the inflection. “I don’t live too far from here.”

And you are gone before he can protest.

| 2688 Words |

* Please note that future chapters will only be posted to Ao3 - you can find the link to my profile under my navigation tab

[finnyboywolfhard]

Song That The Morning Brings (Chapter Nineteen)

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader 

catch up here 

summary: The group finds out new information about their problem and face a stepping stone in the right direction.

warnings: cursing, angst-ish, fluff, spoilers ig 

word count: 3.8k 

When she arrived home that night, all she wanted to do was put on some warmer, much drier clothes and to go right to bed. However, Dustin always found a way to change her plans.

“Y/N, we gotta talk.” He said coming into her room after they had both gotten changed. Sighing, she took a seat on her bed and placed herself underneath the covers. She patted a spot on the bed for Dustin and he took that as his cue to say what he wanted to say. “What the hell is happening between you and Steve?”

“What do you mean?!” She exasperatedly said.

“You guys have been different recently. It’s weird.”

“How are we different?” At this point, worry started to flood through her. What if Dustin somehow figured out how she was feeling or even what had happened between the two?

“I mean, you guys have always been close but it seems like you‘re closer. It’s almost like you’re taking your names of Mom and Dad literally. Plus, I saw you guys holding hands on the roof, even if it was for a second. Plus he gave you his sweatshirt after you guys stayed in the car together. So I want to know, what’s going on?”

“Dusty…” Y/N took a second to collect her thoughts. There was a few ways this could go: She could tell him everything; she could tell him some of the truth; or she could tell him nothing. “First off, I had this hoodie from October last year until like a month ago when I returned it to him, he just gave it back to me because I was cold. I hung back earlier in the car, because I’m scared Dustin, and I didn’t know who else to talk to but him, he is my best…he’s my best friend, remember?”

Dustin paused for a few seconds, obviously gathering his thoughts about what she had just said to him. It felt like there was a rubber band being pulled between the two of them threatening to snap.

“But you want to be more than best friends, don’t you?” Dustin said looking down at his hands. Y/N pulled her eyes away from her brother. She knew that he knew, but she couldn’t seem to let herself say yes to him.

“Would you be mad at me if I did?” She said, just barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know. Steve is my best friend and you’re my sister. I care about you both so much, but if something happened, I feel like I’d have to side with you.”  

“Dusty, seriously? You know that I would never make you chose between the two of us if something happened.”

“So there’s my answer. You do want to be more than best friends.” He said, voice edging towards anger. The girls hands started to shake a bit as she reached her hand out towards her brother.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me for that. There’s a lot that has happened between me and Steve that you don’t know about. It’s not like he wants to be more than that either, so it’s okay Dusty. Please don’t be upset.” Wariness laced her voice, as her concern grew stemming from her brother’s silence.

“You have to be stupid to think he doesn’t feel the same way about you, and besides, I’m not upset, I’m just a little scared because I don’t want you guys to lose what makes your relationship so special. You both just care about each other so much, and you’re both so willing to dedicate your time to others. What if that changes if you guys get together?”

“I can pinky promise you it won’t.” She said, reaching her pinky out. Her brothers pinky wrapped around her own. She released her hand and pulled him into a hug. They stayed in that position so long that they eventually dozed off.

The alarm startled them both awake, way earlier than they would have liked to have been woken up. But they still scurried around their house preparing themselves for the day of planning and adventure ahead. The drive to the mall was filled with Dustin’s zany ideas for what they should try to do next, most of which she had shut down as soon as they left his mouth. The only one she agreed to was allowing him to stake out on the roof while they all continued to work back at Scoops, because even though the three ice cream shop employees wanted to focus on the Russians, they still had jobs to fulfill.

Steve was sitting in the back room on his ten minutes off scooping, watching Y/N organize some files and then start to organize some of the toppings so she could restock them in a bit.

“Hey Y/N/N?” He asked, only receiving a hum in response, “Are you feeling any better from last night?”

Memories of her and Dustin’s conversation from last night filled her brain. Although in the moment it stressed her out, she felt at least a bit more relieved to have at least one problem off her chest to her brother. However, the imminent doom of the Russians was still largely at play. She stopped shuffling around to look at Steve, and his eyes were already on her. For some reason, his gaze sent shivers down her spine. She snapped herself back into reality after realizing how silent she had become just staring back at him.

“Um, I guess a little bit. I’m obviously still scared but talking to you helped, and knowing that Dustin always has multiple ideas is also kind of relieving.”

“Your brother is crazy smart. I don’t understand how smart he is sometimes.”

“Hey give me some credit! I’m pretty smart too, I’m not Dustin smart, but the Henderson family isn’t a dumb one.”

“Of course you’re smart Y/N, but Dustin…Dustin’s a full on nerd. Some may even say Dork.”

“I appreciate a good nerd or dork in my life. Don’t say em like it’s a bad thing, and don’t sell yourself short there either Harrington. You’re a dork too.” She smiled at him, noticing his cheeks flush a dimmer hue of red. His breathing became erratic, and he suddenly seemed to have forgotten how to form sentences. “Are you embarrassed Stevie?”

“No…just confused…how am I a dork?”

“You’re pick up lines are so cheesy and dorky, and you also know a lot about the things you are passionate about. You are a dork for things that matter to you. It’s endearing.”  The two kept chatting for a bit until Dustin burst through the doors of Scoops, explaining what he had seen, pulling Robin into the back as well.

“That keycard opens the door, but unfortunately, the Russian with this keycard also has a massive gun. Whatever’s in this room, whatever’s in those boxes, they really don’t want anyone finding it.”

“There’s got to be a way in.” Robin said.

“Well, you know…I can just take him out.” Steve said, leaning cockily against the table.

“Take who out?” Robin and Y/N said in unison.

“The Russian guard.” All three of the other members of the group started to give him confused and concerned looks before he decided to continue explaining his plan. “What? I sneak up behind him, I knock him out, and I take his keycard. It’s easy.”

“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin says, defining the idiocy in his statement.

“Yes, Dustin, I did. And that’s why I would be sneaking.” Y/N was trying desperately to hold back laughter as he continued trying to defend his plan.

“Well, please, tell me this and be honest, have you ever actually…won a fight?”

“Okay, that was one time-“

“Twice, don’t forget Jonathan after the whole Nancy the Slut Wheeler thing.” Y/N interrupted, pulling some angered thoughts from the recesses of her “King Steve” memories.

“Listen, that doesn’t count.”

“And why is that? He beat the shit out of you. You fared far worse that he did.” Y/N said once again.

“It was…” Steve tried to defend and explain how Jonathan didn’t count before Dustin interrupted him this time.

“You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye, a lot of blood…” Dustin and Steve’s argument started to overlap before Y/N noticed Robin say,

“That just might work.” She stood up from the table and ran out to the front counter. Her hand went into the tip jar to grab the money from it hastily.

“Robin, hey, what’re you doing?” Y/N said, trying to break Robin from her zone however it didn’t work.

“Hey! Robin! Hey! What-What are you doing?”

“I need cash.” She said not fully answering the question asked of her.

“Well, some of that is mine.” Steve said, earning a slap to the arm from Y/N. “Where are you going?”

“To find a way into that room, a safe way. And, in the meantime, sling ice cream, behave and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff.”

“God, I really hope she knows what she’s doing.” Y/N said before looking over to see her brother licking Steve’s engraved ice cream scoop.

“Oh, dude! Come on, man, not my scooper.” Steve spun the scooper around his hand a few times before tucking it securely into his side pocket. It was a sight to behold from Y/N’s up close perspective. Their dynamic was hysterical to her.

“Dusty, come back here with me. Stevie, could you please scoop for a bit? I’ll come help you after I finish refilling the toppings.”

“Of course, Y/N/N, I’ve got it.” He flashed a smile, leading her own lips to upturn into one as well.

For the entire time Robin was gone, the three went about their business quietly. Dustin had stolen paper to write out a set of different plans of how to get into the room. Steve stayed out in the store front and scooped ice cream to the oblivious citizens visiting the mall. All the while Y/N was trying to focus on her work, wanting to keep that and the Russians separate. The silence in the backroom was interrupted by Robin pulling Steve into the back room once again, cohesively bringing them together once more. They all shared glances before Robin interrupted the still air.

“It’s fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the county recorder’s office. “ And with that, she pulled out a set of blue prints for what looked like the mall and set it down onto the table. “Starcourt Mall, the complete blueprints” She said as her hands went across the thin paper to smooth it out onto the surface.

“Not bad.” Dustin said, appreciating her accolades.

“So this is us, Scoops, and this is where we want to get.” Y/N couldn’t quite understand what she was seeing standing across from Robin, so she moved to stand behind Steve, eventually leaning over his chair and shoulder, bringing her face right next to his. She stayed still there for a bit, despite the battling feeling of tension by being in such a close proximity. However, she quickly snapped back up when he began talking.

“I mean, I don’t really see a way in.”

“There’s not if you’re talking exclusively about doors.” She lifted the first set of blueprints up to expose another set.

“The air ducts.” Y/N said, making eye contact with Robin for the first time since she came back. Robin’s smile gleamed when Y/N realized what she had meant.

“Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room.” She walked over to grab a marker from the board before continuing what she was saying. “And these air ducts lead all the way here.” As she was talking, she drew connecting circles from the air ducts at scoops to the vent in the room. All four members glanced up to the vent in the room, all knowing exactly what needed to happen now. Steve immediately found a screwdriver and flashlight so he could give access inside the vent, while Dustin explained that he could fit into it to follow them there. Steve climbed up a ladder and unscrewed the vent cover, passing it down to Y/N before asking for the flashlight. He looked in again, scanning the entire surface area in his vision.

“Yeah, I don’t know man. I don’t know if you can fit in here. It’s like…super tight.”

“I’ll fit. Trust me. No collarbones, remember?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at her little brothers off handed remark about his condition. Just as Dustin was about to climb up the ladder, Robin remarked at his comment.

“Excuse me?” Before Y/N could even answer Robin’s question, Steve answered first.

“Oh, uh, he’s, yeah, he’s got some disease. Chrydo- uh, It’s Chrydo-something. I dunno.”

“He has Cleidocranial Dysplacia, basically his bones and teeth had developmental problems. Good try though Stevie.”

“Yeah, I don’t really know. But he’s missing bones and stuff. He can bend like Gumbo.” He quipped up once again.

“You mean Gumby?” Robin asked, dumbfounded.

“I’m pretty sure it’s Gumbo.”

“Stevie-“Before Y/N could continue, Dustin’s voice echoed down from the vent.

“Steve, just shut up and push me!” Steve reluctantly agreed to help try to push Dustin further into the vent. Y/N went to stand next to Robin, hopelessly watching the two try and fail to push her brother into the vent.

“Not my feet dumbass, push my ass.” Dustin commanded Steve.

“What?”

“Touch my butt! I don’t care! Come on Harder! Push harder!”

“I’m pushing.”

“Oh my god this is a shit show. Robin, I’m so sorry you have to see this.” The two boys continued to bicker while the girls just sat back and observed, slowly losing their patience for the plight playing out in front of them. The bell obnoxiously started ringing from the front of the store, grabbing both Y/N and Robin’s attention from the boys.

“Ahoy Sailors! All hands on deck!” Erica’s bratty voice resounded to the back room. Both of the workers let out a sigh at the thought of serving her especially as she was continuously ringing the bell. Robin leaned over to Y/N and said, “She is small enough.” Y/N’s eyes widened in shock, although the idea was quite literally the most insane thing she heard all day, she didn’t quite hate it either. It could very well work to her advantage. The girls went out into the store front and asked Erica to come to the back room. The explanation took a little less time than they thought, but they knew it was going to take way longer to convince her to go in for them.  They watched as she climbed up the ladder and peered into the duct. She came back down and turned to face the entire group.

“Yeah, I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” Y/N asked first, her brother following a second later.

“You don’t know if you can fit?”

“Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”

“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin inquired from the girl. Steve looked beside him towards Y/N, causing them to make a split second worth of eye contact, both clearly showing annoyance of this situation.

“I don’t have phobias.” Erica laughed off Robin’s question.

“Okay, well what’s the problem?”

“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica.” Condescension waded through her tone like ducks in a pond.

“Erica, really?” Y/N asked the brutal little girl.

“Yes really, you’re asking me to risk my life, and for what? You’re the only one getting advantages.”

“Erica, I will literally give you as much free ice cream as you want, Right Now, if you go out there and sit in the booth until we figure out what is in this for you.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re the only one who seems to care.” Y/N could hear Steve to start doing his breathy laugh, cluing her in to how angry he was becoming, so she reached her hand over and up, just slightly to place her hand on his arm, this got him to stop, just long enough for Erica to leave the room.  Once the door was completely shut again, Y/N dropped her posture to a slouch and mumbled the words, “Fuck me.” To herself before addressing the group once more.

“I vote we just butter her up until she says yes. The worst thing that can happen is she says no and we have to give up.”

“We can’t just give up Y/N! We are the ones who solved this code; don’t you at least want to find out what it is? We could be heroes!” Her brother quickly defended the plan and its honor.

“Yes Dusty, I know we could be heroes, but there’s only so much we can do safely. We need her help, regardless of how rude she can be, so I think we just try to convince her.” The room went silent for a beat before a voice interrupted the silence.

“Y/N’s right.” Steve agreed with his best friend.

“I’ll go start scooping.” Robin said, showing her agreement. The three workers immediately left to go make all of the treats they could use to bribe Erica. They sat down in the booth and slid each and everyone towards her. As Steve slid the final banana split to her, she looked up into his eyes and uttered the demand for more fudge. It took her demanding twice and for a small plea from Y/N for him to actually stand up to go get the small girl more fudge. Within seconds of Steve leaving the table, Robin immediately picks up and starts explaining the plan to Erica.

“Alright, you see this? This is the route you’re gonna take. Then we just wait until the last delivery goes out tonight. Then you knock out the grate, jump down, open the door.”

“Then you find out what’s in the boxes.”

“Exactly!” Y/N agrees optimistically.

“Mm-hmm. And you say this guard is armed.”

“Yes, but he won’t be there.” Dustin says way softer than he was speaking to Y/N a few minutes prior.

“And booby traps?” Erica asks, causing Robin to repeat it questioning what she meant. “Lasers? Spikes in the wall? You know what this half baked plan of yours sounds like to me? Child Endangerment.” She made sure to pronounce it slowly and articulately.

“We’ll be in radio contact the whole time-“Robin said, trying to make it sound safer and more hashed out.

“Ah, ah, ah! Child Endangerment!”

“Erica? Hi…uh…We think these Russians want to do harm to our country. Great harm, don’t you love your country?”

“You can’t spell America without Erica.” She quipped back in response.

“That’s…actually true.” Y/N said dumbfounded before allowing her brother to continue his attempt to convince her.

“SO, don’t do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man. Do this for America…Erica.” He said, completing in a poetic nature. Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her brother’s attempt to be noble. Clearly, this also hit Erica in the same nature.

“Ooh! I just got the chills! Oh yeah, from this float, not your speech. Know what I love most about this country? Capitalism. Do you know what capitalism is?”

“Obviously we know what that is.” Y/N responded.

“It means this is a free market system, which means people get paid for their services depending on how valuable their contributions are. And it seems to me, my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many, and I’m talking free ice cream FOR LIFE.” Y/N sat back while Robin just looked the girl up and down. Y/N looked at her little brother who was just starting at all the ice cream laid out in front of him. Her gaze fell back to the counter where Steve was helping some customers. She admired how even though he should have been included in this deal, he would want them to do whatever they could to help out as many people as they could.

“I can’t guarantee for life necessarily, but I can guarantee free ice cream the entire time I work here.” Y/N finally broke the tension filled surface of the table.

“And I can add on for the entire time I work here, which will probably be longer anyways.” Robin backed Y/N’s end of the deal.

“I said FOR LIFE.” Erica leaned back and crossed her arms. Y/N once again rolled her eyes and let out a sigh.

“Fine, how about this, we each tell one new employee that you get free ice cream whenever we get replaced and that it must be honored by everyone but our boss. That way, as long as employees are here, they know that you get free ice cream. Deal?” Erica pondered it for a second before finally agreeing to it. Y/N excused herself from the table while Robin and Dustin stayed with Erica to go over the plan more in depth. Y/N walked up to the front counter just as Steve was wrapping up with the line of customers.

“Hey Stevie, could I talk to you for a sec?”

“Uh, yeah, of course. Did she agree to do it?” He asked as they passed through the doorway into the back room.

“What?” She asked before realizing that she heard what he asked. “Yeah, she agreed, speaking of we have to give her free ice cream when she comes, for life, apparently.  But that’s beside the point. I just…I really need to know if this is something you are truly okay with going through with. I know Dustin and Robin really want to do it, and I’ll do it if I have to, but I don’t want to drag you into Dustin’s mess,  because I really care about you and I don’t want you, or really any of us getting hurt. I care about you so much Stevie and I am so scared that something bad is gonna be in those boxes. So basically what I’m asking is if you are sure that you want to-“

“Y/N/N?”

“What?”

“Come here.” He opened his arms, which she immediately was wrapped in once she laid her head upon his chest. “ Y/N Henderson, I am doing this if you are doing this. I will not let you go into something potentially dangerous alone. You’re the most important person in my life, okay? Don’t worry about me. I’m right here. I’m gonna be right here.” The girl stayed in his arms for a few seconds, taking in his warmth and his smell and his touch. She cherished moments like these, even though they made her feel so much more confused on where their relationship stood. But in those moments, they kinda felt okay. They felt natural, and peaceful. And that’s exactly what she needed.

taglist: 

@mochminnie  @voidnarnia @queen1054 

[forever--darling]

not too far away - s.m. (part five)

a/n: where everyone takes a trip down memory lane after another typical family dinner night 

warnings: 7.5k words of family dinner, old home videos, and new developed feelings

V. all things come to those who wait

her

It’s been about a week since you showed up at the Mendes home and wrapped yourself up in Shawn’s arms and things couldn’t have taken a bigger turn. You and Shawn have been inseparable and you have just been trying to settle back into the feeling of having him around. You’ve just been trying to take in how nice it feels to be around him again and for the whole week you’ve ignored all of your old feelings. Deciding that you were going to enjoy every moment spent with him, you would worry about telling him the truth later. Keep everything from going to shit until later. You had a feeling he was doing the same thing because the whole week you had been with him, he had not mentioned the last four years to you once or asked any questions. It was like he knew that eventually the truth would have to come out and you both deserved a little happiness before it did. 

The past seven days have probably been some of the best days you’ve had in a long time. You had never felt more like yourself than when he was around and it opened your eyes to a lot of things about him. You felt so many things for him that sometimes it all was a little too much and you couldn’t think about it for too long without feeling like your whole heart might explode. This new found feeling made everything so much more complicated and you weren’t even sure what they were yet and you were terrified to try and find out. Which was the very reason you hadn’t told anyone yet, not even Demi. You knew, honestly, if you told her she would lose her shit and eventually let the secret slip since she couldn’t keep them for very long. That’s why you had decided to keep these thoughts and these many feelings about Shawn locked away where you would never have to deal with them. Turned out to be way harder than you thought, especially since you were seeing him now almost every day to make up for lost time. It also didn’t help that he was this tall cuddly giant that had rock hard muscles and smelt of some expensive cologne and cinnamon. 

Most days you would just tell yourself that you were just attracted to him and horny. It came to a point where he would walk into the room and you would tell yourself that you didn’t have feelings for him at all and were just in need of sex. You were telling yourself that you were horny for your best friend who you’ve known since you were five years old. It sounded wrong, only because Shawn was just Shawn and you were well you. You two were supposed to be just friends like it always had been but now that he had abs and that stupid perfect smile, your mind and body had other ideas. It made you want to run away from him for a whole new set of reasons because you were afraid if you were around him long enough you might jump his bones and you couldn’t take the rejection. You knew that it was probably just a little crush and you would get over it. That’s the other thing you told yourself, just wait it out and it will be fine. 

Clearly, no one else had noticed your slight change around Shawn. It’s not like it was drastic because you were still you around him but now you just weren’t chained to his hip as often. Even that was a struggle because lately all you wanted to do was touch him in any way you could whether it was hugging him, or rubbing his back, or even kicking his feet with your own. It made you feel ridiculous about how much you really wanted him.

So, while you were trying to get over this sudden rush of who knows what, everyone else had been celebrating in any way they could that you two had reconciled. Between your family and Shawn’s there was constant dinners and game nights spent together trying to get back to normal to how things were before he had left and you -- well got sick, which the Mendes family didn’t know about. Then there was the fact that if you didn’t have class, work, or were with Demi you were with Shawn. Sometimes you’d go out to eat, or go bowling, or even see a movie or you would just stay at one of the houses laying on the couch, legs slightly tangled. It made your face grow hot and your stomach to flip every time you thought of sitting that close to him that you are actually wrapped up in each other. It seemed so intimate and even though you did it sometimes when you were both sixteen, you didn’t realize that until now. 

It was around five o’clock, and your dad had just pulled the car into the Mendes driveway since it was their night to host dinner, and turned the car off. Unbuckling, your seat belt, you followed after the rest of your family to the door and instantly as the doorbell rang it opened to a smiling Karen, oven mitt held in her hand. One by one your family began to pile into the house, smiles instantly flying onto their faces. You stepped in after them and Karen closed the door after you with a small thud blocking out the new spring breeze. 

You were about to follow everyone else to the kitchen when her voice stopped you, “Oh Y/N, Shawn’s upstairs if you wanted to go get him. Dinner is almost ready.” 

“Okay, thanks,” you replied your tone light and sweet. 

You made sure she had made her way back to the kitchen before you turned and dashed up the stairs going two steps at a time. You jogged through the upstairs hallways, your family probably able to hear you, and straight into his room. The door fell shut after you causing Shawn to jump at the noise as you collapsed on your side onto his twin size bed, your light pink tank top rising a little as you hit the mattress. Shawn turned around in the office swivel chair at his desk and a small smile started to form on his lips, his eyes looking at your strewn figure stopping for a few seconds at your waist where skin was now showing just above the waist line of your jeans.

“What are you doing?” he asked, a chuckle bubbling in his throat.

Leaning onto your elbow, your fist supported your chin as your other hand went to tug down the bottom of your shirt upon noticing his wandering eyes, “Just came to see the old room.” 

This time he couldn’t help but laugh at how innocent your voice had sounded with your fingers now tangling with the material of his bedspread. You watched as Shawn shook his head at how you were acting, a smile stretched across your face. Sitting up on the bed, you dangle your feet off the edge and tugged at your shirt again as you gave him a small shy smile. 

“There was a lot of time spent in this room and well on this bed,” you continued not picking up on the words coming out of your mouth until you had said them. 

Instantly, Shawn’s smile had turned into a smirk one that you knew that his head had gone in the gutter at your words. Yours did at least. Usually, you would have been able to laugh it off without a sense of worry but your stupid mouth had gotten you into this situation where his teasing look was now making your cheeks turn a darker shade than your shirt. He chuckled as you suddenly were laughing out of embarrassment. 

“Not like that!” you exclaimed pointing a finger at him, “We never did that and will never do that… ever.” 

He nodded as if he agreed but the playful smirk gave away that he now was trying to mess with you. “Uh huh.” 

You shake your head trying to hide your smile but it wasn’t working, “I mean it, Mendes. I don’t know what you’re up to but just keep your hands to yourself that’s all I ask.” 

“Okay, Y/L/N, I’ll try but we both know that I can’t resist you,” he teased, sending a wink before he swiveled back around to face his desk where you had just noticed housed a bunch of loose pieces of paper. 

Standing from the bed, you moved over towards him and the guitar that was nestled between his feet. Stood behind the chair, you bent forward and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your chin finding a place in the point between his neck and shoulder. A chuckle rumbled in his chest and you smiled at the feeling and the sound. 

“The girl tells me to keep my hands to myself when she can’t even do that herself,” he said turning his head to see you out of the corner of his eye smiling with a light blush on your face. 

“Oh shut up,” you replied, playfully hitting him the back of the head as you unwrapped your arms from around him and stood keeping one hand on each of his shoulders, “Now what are you working on?” 

He shrugged, “Just some lyrics.” 

“Can I hear them?” you asked. 

Shawn’s eyes widened at your question but couldn’t help but send a small smile back at you as he grabbed his guitar. It was the first time you were getting really involved in his career. Besides when you had listened to his song in the car on the way to the Toronto Maple Leafs game a week ago, you hadn’t asked about many of his new songs or what he was working on at the moment. Sure you had talked about his album he was working on and all the other crazy stuff that came with his job but you hadn’t just sat down and listened to the real thing that made him able to do what he does. His voice and how he performed.

With that, Shawn took your wrist gently in his hand and led you around the chair. You leaned against the wooden desk making sure to not crinkle any of the paper his lyrics were on as he lifted his guitar up and into his lap. He strummed the guitar to make sure it was in tune before he adjusted it again on his lap his eyes glancing up towards yours for a second before falling back down to the guitar. Then all at once, as he started to play and opened his mouth to sing you felt everything within you fall apart. 

Chills traveled up and down your body as you took in the lyrics that fell from his pretty lips and how perfect they sounded. You took in the expressions that filled his face as he sang and how much passion that passed through them. The talent that filled this man sat in front of you was something you could barely handle and you knew that he deserved everything this world had to offer him. Your eyes moved away from Shawn up and around his room feeling the breath in your throat get caught as you glanced at all the old fan art that was sent when he was making covers on YouTube. There were so many people who supported him unconditionally and you wished that he knew how much you had too ever since the beginning. Hearing him sing something he’d written in front of you, made your heart swell because of all the times you had wanted to see him perform when he was back in Toronto but were too sick to go. If only he knew. 

Your eyes trailed across the walls as the words Shawn was singing that could only represent how much love and longing he held, your gaze found the small section of the room that had pictures only for high school and when you were younger. There were some of Shawn with Brian and his other friends but a lot were of you and him. Your hands began to grip the desk tightly as you looked back towards him. His eyes were closed and a small smile was forming on his lips as he sang the last few high notes. 

Seconds later, his amber eyes met yours and all you could do was stare in silence. Your lips were trying to lift in a smile because you had no words to express how much you felt for Shawn and how proud of him you were. That’s why you couldn’t help but feel bad every time knowing what you had put him through despite him not knowing the truth which only made you feel worse that you were too scared to tell him. 

You knew instantly as Shawn placed his guitar on the ground he could sense your anxiety though you were smiling. He rolled the chair closer to you and wrapped his hands gently around your wrists to pull them off from the sharp edge of the desk. Your hands dropped to your sides and his warm touch was lost. He stared up towards you, smiling trying to make you do the same. His hands then reached out and wrapped around the back of your thighs, gripping onto the back of your jeans. He pulled you forward and slowly a step at a time you moved forward until you were placed in between his legs, your own hands falling to his shoulders again. You sighed happily as his thumbs began to rub small circles into the back of your legs. Reaching forward, your hand moved up towards Shawn’s jaw where your thumb began to trace the edge of his chin causing his smile to widen. 

That’s when you felt the pressure being put on your legs like he was trying to pull you down onto him but before you could get that far the door burst open causing you to jump apart. You were pressed back against the desk and Shawn rolled his chair back a few feet as you both looked towards the doorway to find Aaliyah standing there gaze moving back and forth from you and Shawn.

“What’s going on?” she asked a single eyebrow raising. 

“Nothing,” Shawn replied, quickly rubbing the back of his neck giving him away that he was nervous. 

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Aaliyah grinned, leaning against the doorway. 

Shawn avoided eye contact with the younger Mendes and his frantic look was then sent your way almost begging for help to get out of this. You moved away from the desk and went over to stand in front of Aaliyah. “Um, I’m guessing dinner is ready. Right, that’s why you came to get us?” 

Aaliyah just kept smiling towards you like she knew what was going on but how could she when you didn’t even know yourself, “Yeah, my mom sent me up to get you guys.” 

“Okay, thank you,” you smiled trying to hide how pink your face was starting to turn. 

Aaliyah looked from you and then around you towards Shawn before she turned on her heels and walked back out of the room towards the stairs. You began to follow her knowing that if you didn’t go now she would just come back but as you stood in the doorway you looked back towards Shawn who was standing from the black cushioned office chair. He ran his fingers through his curls before his eyes flickered up noticing you still in the doorway. 

Your lips pulled into a smile, “It sounded really good. You’re really amazing, Shawn.” 

His mouth opened in surprise for a moment before pulling into a smile. Following his sister, you stepped out into the hall and instantly Shawn stumbled after you down the stairs. Upon entering the kitchen, you made your way towards the island to dish yourself behind Aaliyah who was already making herself one. She sent a smug grin over her shoulder towards you and you mouthed the word “what” to her with wide eyes. She shook her head as if saying nothing before she turned back to gathering her food which happened to be Alfredo, a Caesar salad, and garlic bread tonight. You were in the middle of dishing your salad when Shawn had appeared in the kitchen slipping slightly at how fast he was moving. He had a light shade of pink dusting over his cheeks and his eyes were still wide as he ran his fingers through his curls again. 

“Woah, Mendes you good?” James asked from his spot at the kitchen table, seeming to be the first one to notice Shawn who nodded in response. 

“Why, you in such a hurry?” Manny asked slight amusement heard in his words. 

“U-Uh just hungry, that’s all,” his son said stuttering over his words slightly as he came up behind you and grabbed a plate for himself. A giggle coming from Aaliyah ringing in both of your ears. 

Filling your plate, you followed after Aaliyah towards the table and took a seat in between her and James knowing you couldn’t take any teasing from her if you sat next to her brother. Everyone had found a spot at the table and Shawn was the last to come over and plop down in the last empty seat which happened to be right across from you. Quickly the parents in the room began to make light conversation that was full of humor which James would add to and Aaliyah would too from time to time. 

You and Shawn, however, were very quiet as you ate only speaking when asked something or had the conversation directed to one of you. You knew why you weren’t talking as much and now you only wondered if it was the same reason for him. It had to be because what was happening, upstairs, between the two of you was way too intimate for two best friends. It made you wonder what would have happened if Aaliyah wouldn’t have walked in. Would Shawn have pulled you into his lap? Would he have kissed you? Or just hug you tightly as friends would? 

Your thoughts were then interrupted by a foot making contact with yours under the table. At first, you thought it was maybe an accident and that someone had bumped your foot while trying to readjust where their’s was placed, but then you felt it again. It was a sock clad foot and it made its way from your foot up to your ankle. Your eyes flickered up from your pasta towards Shawn with the nervous and surprised look now wiped off his face and replaced with that smirk again. His fork was twirling around in his salad when his eyes moved up to meet yours just as his foot pushed at yours playfully. Rolling your eyes, you tried to ignore it and took a bite of your pasta but it didn’t go away. 

Though your attention was brought away from a teasing Shawn towards Karen who had said your name from across the table, “Y/N, dear, are you alright? You seem awfully quiet tonight.” 

Shawn’s grin grew as his foot went back to bumping against yours causing you to swallow your pasta with a sheepish grin, “Oh yes. Just tired is all. I’ll be better tomorrow.” 

“Y/N, had two classes today and had to travel towards the city. Said the drive was long by herself,” your dad continued the conversation. 

Manny offered a smile, “Yeah, well being tired is just one result of working your ass off. I can tell you really want this and I think we’re all proud of whatever you decide to move forward in as of a career.” 

You returned the smile obviously happy by his kind words but it was hard to take it all in with the distraction on your leg. Not able to find your words, you pulled your leg back from Shawn and then kicked forward hitting him in the shin as you responded to his father, “Thanks, Manny that means a lot to hear.” 

Manny nodded towards you but now was looking at his son who had let out a loud grunt. You guess you kicked him harder than you thought. “Shawn, you okay?” 

“Yeah,” he smiled waving it off, “Just a noodle went down the wrong tube is all.” 

Everyone didn’t question him further and changed the subject to something else but you weren’t listening too busy silently laughing to yourself. Sneaking a glance up towards Shawn, he was already looking at you shaking his head and nose scrunched up at you. You just shrugged and smiled innocently before going back to eating your delicious Alfredo feet tucked under your chair so they were far away from his for the rest of dinner. 

It had been a couple hours later and you and Shawn hadn’t said too much after the whole foot incident in dinner but you didn’t care because you both knew he was just trying to tease you. That’s why you sat in the kitchen playing cards with Aaliyah and James as Shawn sat in the living room talking about some business stuff with your father, which you were clueless about. You were currently in an intense round of Rummy and felt like you were about to win when your mother’s voice rang through the doorway. 

“Kids, need you in the living room,” she called instantly gaining groans out of the three of you. 

“Wait!” Aaliyah yelled back suddenly playing her turn quickly. 

James chuckled as he turned towards the doorway where your mom was standing smiling at the three of you, “Can we get another few minutes, I’m about to beat bug over here at a round of Rummy.” 

You scoffed before shoving your brother playfully in the arm, “Nice try, bud. But it's about to be the other way around.” 

“Oh, what’s given you that idea?” he challenged, glancing at his cards before looking back at you. 

“Since I’ve beat you a handful of times in the last how many times we’ve played,” you sassed trying to flip your short hair over your shoulder but though it was down it didn’t work. 

James smiled about to give a snippy comeback when he was cut of by your mother who moved towards the table and snatched the cards out of all three of your hands causing protests to come from your mouths. 

“Katherine, no,” Aaliyah whined, “I was finally going to win one.” 

Your mom laughed, “I’m sorry but you guys can finish later. Please come into the living room.” 

“Well we’ll have to start all over if we want to play later because you mixed up the cards,” James mumbled under his breath gaining a small slap to the back of his head by your mom. 

“Shush now,” she replied pushing you towards the couch, “I think you guys will enjoy this. We haven’t watched one of these in a long time and we even added a few new ones.” 

You already had a feeling what she was talking about as you plopped down onto the large L shaped grey couch, Aaliyah sitting next to you as Manny and your father messed with the TV. Glancing around you spotted your mother taking a seat at the far end of the couch next to Karen while James had settled into a nearby recliner. You didn’t spot Shawn until you glanced over your shoulder to find him leaned against the back wall behind the couch, lip tucked in between his teeth and hands stuffed into his pants. At meeting your eyes, he smiled but you looked away as soon as your dad let out a holler at the TV. 

“Yeah, there we go,” he cackled, “About fucking time we figured this thing out though we’ve done this so many times before.” 

“Bradley,” your mom scolded at his tongue but smiled towards the man anyways as he took a seat on the other side of you, Manny on the other end of the couch. 

“What?” your dad asked, swinging an arm around the back of the couch where you sat, “They’re all adults now and I mean Aaliyah isn’t that far from it.” 

Your mom rolled her eyes at his response and didn’t say anything more as she settled back into the couch just as Manny began to fiddle with the remote. Just as he pushed play, you felt Aaliyah lean closer to your side as she whispered, “I think I already know what this is.” 

“Me too,” you replied, feeling your chest warm at the beaming smile that pulled at her lips. 

Sitting with your hands in your lap, your face brightened as the screen turned from black to the view of the Mendes living room. The date reading December 15, 2003 at the bottom of the left corner from the old video camera. You could hear the voice of Manny mumbling behind the camera as he lifted it to a view that caused a soft “aww” to leave your throat. On the couch in the living room around fifteen years ago was a five year old Shawn holding a three month old Aaliyah. There were multiple voices in the background some you recognized as your parents. Shawn had a small round face with floppy hair that was straight across his forehead. His ears stuck out a little bit and he was dressed in a red jumper and dark jeans that appeared too big for him. The little boy kept sneaking glances up towards his dad then back towards Aaliyah who was all but a small baby with chubby cheeks and drool settling on her chin. 

It was about thirty seconds of Manny zooming in and out on the two of them when you saw another person enter the view and plop down next to the young Shawn. Everyone in the room lets out a small chuckle at the sight of you, also five years old, sitting close to him looking down at Aaliyah. You had long hair that was pulled into a low ponytail at the back of your head and wore a multicolor striped shirt. Your little self smiled down revealing a tooth from the front to be missing. Five year old Shawn looked at five year old you before leaning it to whisper something and then within a matter of seconds, he had carefully handed you Aaliyah and began to wander out of the living room. 

Manny used the camera to zoom onto little Shawn who looked to be heading towards the kitchen when he called out to him, “Shawn, buddy, where are you going?” 

“I-I’m going to get a muffin,” he called back his high pitched soft voice stuttering as he looked back at the camera before continuing in the kitchen where you see him stop in front of a ten year old James, who handed him a large blueberry muffin. 

The camera turned off going black and the video was moving to the next one when from beside you  Aaliyah turned around to send her brother a teasing smile, “Wow some things never change.” 

Everyone chuckled at the comment of Shawn being the same when it comes to muffins, and he even laughed himself as the next frame focused. This one was a little over a year later from the first, on December 31, 2004. Manny once again had the camera and now was filming a six year old Shawn who sat on the steps kicking his feet against the wood. 

“Bud, what you doing?” Manny asked causing the six year old to look up. The kid shrugged in reply as Manny zoomed in towards him who now looked to have slightly shorter hair than five year old Shawn. “Are you happy it’s New Year’s Eve?” 

He nodded and mustered up a smile for his dad as Manny continues to ask questions, “Who are you going to kiss at midnight?” 

Instantly at the question, Shawn’s mouth opened in disgust showing his small round teeth as his little nose scrunched up, “No one.” 

“Not even Y/N?” 

His face only scrunched more if that was possible as the frame zoomed in, “No! Gross.” 

Manny chuckled behind the camera as he turned it over towards you, who was still five almost six, dancing to the music with James. “Yeah, but isn’t she your friend?” 

“Friends don’t kiss!” Shawn uttered, his voice screeching before he jumped from the stairs and ran away from the camera. 

Once again laughter filled the room as the TV went black for a few seconds. From there is showed a bunch of small clips as you two seemed to get older with each new clip. They were videos of you two dancing and singing and playing games and just laughing a lot. Even Aaliyah and James made a showing once in a while since you four seemed to be together all the time if it wasn’t just you and Shawn. You laughed when each one came on forgetting most of these things happened. As you watched each new clip you wanted to turn to look at Shawn to see his reaction but you felt like everyone would notice if you did.

It was when the clips started to get into the years where you and Shawn were teenagers that you felt yourself scoot further off the seat, eyes locked onto the TV. The clip opened up to the same spot the very first one had, with Shawn, in the living room on the couch with mumbling behind the camera between Karen and Manny asking if the camera was on and if it was recording. That’s when you looked at the date and remembered exactly what this was. March 24, 2012. He had just started posting covers onto YouTube at this point. Shawn was fourteen, lanky, dressed in a blue Nike sweatshirt with a pair of basketball shorts. There was a red pimple present on his chin and he had hair that fell straight across his head and poked out slightly at his ear which just so happened to be pierced with two black studs. 

“Ah, there it is,” you exclaimed, causing everyone to look away from the TV towards you who was grinning like an absolute idiot, “The earrings.” 

They all chuckled at you and the one that stuck out the most was Shawn’s who had stayed standing the whole time as this had been playing and you wished more than anything that he would just come scoot in between you and Aaliyah instead of standing in the back alone. 

“I remember this,” Karen sighed happily from the end of the couch and it once again became silent and everyone focused back on the TV as fourteen year old Shawn started to talk. 

“Mom, Dad what’s going on?” he asked, voice still slightly high, as he was beginning to hit puberty, while looking around the empty room towards the camera that was being fiddled with by his parents, “Are you guys filming me right now?” 

“No, of course not honey,” Karen replied to her son now seeming to have the camera in her hands instead of Manny’s.

“Then why would you be holding it right in my direction with the side screen open if you weren’t videotaping me,” Shawn had looked around the room again as his parents grew silent defeated by their son who was still utterly confused, “What’s going on?” 

As he looked out the window away from the entrance of the living room that’s when it happened. You had jumped out and onto Shawn, your leg wrapped around his waist and arms wrapping around his neck, tackling him onto the couch. Your face had tucked into his shoulder as you began laughing and as soon as he had registered that you were the one who had jumped on him and was hugging him, he smiled so wide and pulled you hard against his chest. Laughter was falling from the both of you, as you hugged and hugged like no one was watching. 

“But how?” Shawn blurted, pulling away from the hug, forgetting about the camcorder his parents were holding and still taping on. 

“I decided to come home a week early because I missed you so much,” you heard your young teenage self reply before you were pulled back into a bone crushing hug from Shawn. 

You remember that day like it was yesterday, you had been gone for two weeks visiting your grandparents back in the U.S. and was actually supposed to be with them for three weeks but it was the first time you and Shawn had ever been away that long from each other. You missed him so much that you had gone home a week early and surprised him which was being shown in this home video clip. When you had thought of the idea at thirteen you never thought that would have been his reaction but when it was, it had made you the happiest girl in the world because you had Shawn as your best friend and most days that’s the best thing you ever had. 

The smile couldn’t stop but form on your lips because for so long you were starting to forget what yours and his friendship was like. Sure you were getting an idea now because you’ve spent the last whole week with him but even then it’s not the same. Something was different and it wasn’t only your attraction towards him. Something had actually changed and you weren’t sure of what it was. These videos seemed to reveal who you were and what it was like to be a happy kid every day just getting to spend time with your best friend and your family. You missed those days more than anything but you felt more relieved that you were getting back to what that felt like after all this time apart from them.

The clip ended with loud laughter coming through the camera from thirteen almost fourteen year old you and fourteen year old Shawn who still hadn’t let you go on the couch. There was barely a break before the next one dove right in and instantly you knew this was going to be a treat because this was one you remembered quite vividly too. June 19, 2014. Prom. The frame scanned around what was your backyard in the early summer, the sun falling from the sky, and large flower garden blooming as multiple prom couples stood in tuxes and multiple colored sequined dresses getting individual pictures before the group ones. Finally the camera landed on you, who stood at a white table near the entrance of the house, hair in a braided updo with loose pieces of hair that framed around your face curled, makeup all bronzed, and a long two piece dress that had the top sequined in silver and the bottom gown part was a light pink that flowed down to your ankles. A light pink corsage was wrapped around your wrist to match. The photos had been only going on for around a half hour and you were already found at the table full of snacks. 

The person with the camera kept walking closer to you and zooming in on you as you began to pick strawberries off of one of the plates. It had been a few seconds before you turned to show the camera a view from the front as you simply rolled your eyes while swallowing another strawberry. “James really?” you had said, seeming irritated by the way your brother kept zooming in on the camera though you were a few feet away. 

“What?” James, who was twenty at the time asked, “Just wanted to get your thoughts about the day before you head off for the evening.” 

“Thoughts about what?” you had questioned smoothing down your dress. 

“I don’t know the experience or something. Manny just left me with the camera. Oh, how are pictures going?” James chuckled zooming the camera out as you let out a small groan. 

“So long,” you whined, “I’m so hungry and so bored.” 

“Where’s Matt?” James wondered out loud turning the camera in the direction where you pointed to show a bunch of rowdy hockey players goofing off where your date was currently in the middle of. 

The camera moved back towards you where you were eating another strawberry. “And Shawn?” James followed where you pointed again across the lawn where he stood near a tree, arm wrapped around Lauren’s waist, who had been his date, for individual pictures. 

“Demi?” James tried again the camera falling onto Demi who was wrapped up in her prom date’s arms dressed in a red strapless dress. The camcorder was back on you where you were now eating a pig in a blanket. “Hey, bug you okay?” 

“Huh,” you moved away from the snack table to see James still taping and instantly put a smile on your face, “Yeah, fine.” 

“Y/N!” that’s when your name was called out by Matt, one of the best hockey players on the hockey team and who you had been excited to go with to prom only to find out how much of a shitty date he was. “You ready to take those pictures yet?” 

“Yeah,” you called back sighing before walking up the small hill towards your date who had been pulled back into a conversation with one of his teammates. 

The frame changed but still had the same date but now the time on the screen appeared to be twenty minutes after you had been on it. Now the camera was moving closer towards Shawn, who was alone sat at the top of a picnic table fixing the purple flower that was pinned to his black tux. 

“Mendes!” James still happened to be in charge of the camera. 

“James, hey,” Shawn smiled but then glanced down towards the camera near his face, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m stuck on camera duty,” James shrugs causing the camera to move slightly. 

“Ah, cause my mom’s taking pictures,” he elaborated, “So is there anything you want me to say?” 

“Nah, its fine Y/N literally sat here and complained about how boring these pictures are,” James replied zooming in towards Shawn whose smile dropped. 

“Wait is Y/N not having a good time?” Shawn asked. 

“Well, it could be better.” 

Shawn’s frown also disappeared, a smug grin forming on his lips, “I know just the thing. Hey, make sure you’re recording during group pictures okay?” 

“No problem,” James replied before Shawn was beckoned away by Lauren. 

Changing again, the frame landed on a group of the prom couples together getting pictures taken. The time only changing by fifteen minutes from when Shawn was talking. There were around six or seven couples in the picture. The boys stood behind the girls an arm placed on their waist. You and Matt were on one end as Shawn and Lauren were around three couples down. As the camcorder was recording, you could see how Shawn was looking at you between the pictures and even when some were being taken. After a while, you had caught his gaze and sent him a confused look as he smirked towards you the rest of the people in the picture oblivious to you and him. Finally, you just rolled your eyes at him and ignored him but before the group photo had come to an end, he broke free from around Lauren and started running straight towards you. Your eyes widen and leaped away from Matt beginning to move in the opposite direction of where Shawn was losing your heels in the process. As he caught up, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder and held the back of your thighs as you began to thrash against him. 

“Shawn! Shawn Peter Raul Mendes, put me down right now!” you were shouting at him but there was laughter in your voice and some people laughed along with the situation while others stared confused but at the moment neither one of you cared. 

The TV went black meaning it was the end of the home videos from the camcorder and felt your heart warm at all the laughter that filled the room as everyone glanced from you to Shawn. You finally were able to get yourself to turn around to look at him to only find him with a boyish grin on his face, cheeks rosy, hair tousled, and the happiest you’d probably seen him in a long time. Staring for a second too long, you turned back around and stood from the couch gaining a questioning view from your father. 

“Where are you going, hun?” he asked. 

You offered a small smile for reassurance as you headed for the kitchen, “I’m just going to get some air. I’ll be back.”

No one else stopped you as you walked through the kitchen and out the door to the patio. You walked down the few steps until your feet hit the grass and you let out a strangled breath as you looked up towards the sky to find the starry sky. You had to figure out something because you couldn’t keep doing this, being happy and then becoming sad because you’re happy when you shouldn’t be. It’s too frustrating and exhausting and not only for you but for everyone else around you. 

One of these days you were going to have to tell Shawn, tell his family, tell everyone else you knew about what you had gone through. What you had survived. It was something you should be proud of but to you made you feel ashamed that you had to admit that you once were sick and had to admit that you had been weak without wanting anyone to know. It was so hard and for so long you thought you weren’t going to make it. That you were going to die so it didn’t matter about what would happen next or thinking about what you were going to do for a future because for the longest time you had never been promised a future and it was always a slim chance. And now here you were, the slim chance had been a chance after all and now you had no fucking clue where to go to next in your miserable life. 

Being so caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t heard the door open behind you or the steps that had gotten near you. It wasn’t until a warm hand was wrapped around your arm that you noticed his presence next to you. Shawn sent a small comforting smile as he leaned into your back already warming you up from the chilly breeze that filled the air. 

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded turning around to face him with an unreadable expression on your face. As you looked over Shawn all you could think about was how much your heart ached for this man. It stirred a fear in you that you had never known before and because of that you decided to just ignore it and say what was already falling out of your mouth. 

“I’m perfect,” you whispered arms wrapped up and around his neck, “I’m perfect as long as I’m with you.” 

His lips formed into the biggest smile, showing his pearly whites, as you pulled him into a hug. His arms wrapped around your lower back as his nose nestled into your hair. His hand ran up and down your back as you just held onto him for dear life. After a few minutes though he pulled back, hand moving to your shoulder where his thumb could stroke your collar bone that was partially exposed. 

“Hey what are you doing tomorrow?” he asked amber eyes sparkling. 

You sighed, “I have to run back to Toronto to grab a few more things since I’m staying a couple days longer down here and then I have to meet up with Demi for brunch.” 

“Okay, but you’re free after that. Afternoon? Evening?” Shawn questioned his smile still there. 

You let your hands drop from around his neck and raked them down his chest, “Yes, I’m free after that.” 

“Would you want to meet up, there is something I want to show you,” he was beaming as he spoke instantly sending your gloomy mood out of the window. 

“Yeah, of course, but I’m not sure what time I’ll get back here tomorrow,” you mumbled watching as he started to shake his head. 

“No, it’s in the city. The thing I want to show you is in Toronto,” he explained biting onto his bottom lip. 

You nodded, “Okay. Just text me where you want to meet tomorrow.” 

“Yes!” Shawn exclaimed pulling you back into his arms as you both pulled your attention back onto the starry sky. 

And as his arm was wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, you could feel your heart start to beat out of your chest and you could only hope that he couldn’t hear or maybe you secretly wished he could.

next part

[naivesilver]

Vecpio Week - Day 1: Music

"Hey, Es, what's wrong?"

Espio blinks, looking up from the piece of paper he's been staring at for the past five minutes. Vector is standing in front of him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, the very picture of perplexity.

"Nothing. Why are you asking?"

Vector shrugs. "You look stressed."

He is, as usual, terribly blunt and not nearly as smooth in his attempts to comfort someone as he thinks he is. It would be hilarious if it didn't send through Espio a spike of irritation that he struggles to quell down. "I'm not stressed" he mutters, crumpling up the notebook page he was trying to do some accounting on and tossing it aside.

That's a lie if he's ever told one, and he's pretty sure Vector knows that, but what they both know is why he's so stressed, and it's hardly something that can be fixed by talking about it.

Espio has always considered himself a level-headed, pragmatic chameleon, so he's not in the habit of lying to himself, and at this point he can't ignore that their situation looks dire, at the very least. They're running out of money, which isn't new per se but is rarely a comforting thing to know, and they haven't had a lead on a case or a new case in ages, so it's improbable that they'll be out of it anytime soon.

And then there's Charmy, who not only sent their expenses through the roof, but also is even more a nuisance than they'd expected him to be. Anything he does, be it eating or playing or screaming for attention, he does it loudly. Even as they speak the bee's trying to stuff something in his mouth, with a sucking, slobbering noise that's grating on Espio's nerves. The only thing he craves more than a new paycheck is a minute of complete silence.

Not that he regrets taking in the kid, or opening the agency, or any of that. If nothing else, they're pretty much the only ideas of Vector he's followed that haven't ended in utter disaster. He's happy. He should be happy.

It's just that, well. He's never had such a hard time keeping his spirits up. There's always a nagging thought at the back of his brain, reminding him of the hundreds of ways things could go to hell if they don't find a solution fast. Even meditating has grown difficult, and not just because it tends to be interrupted by a baby wailing for food. His worries creep in and nothing he does can shake them off, even after all those years he's spent learning how to clear his mind from stuff like that.

He's spaced out again. Great. Now Vector will have yet another reason to believe he's losing his mind and fret and try to solve the issue in some creative and yet decidedly unhelpful way. There might be a valuable lesson to learn there, but Espio is too tired to decide whether it's "let your partner help when you're struggling" or "never let anyone see you lose control ever again", and it's not like one is in the mood for absorbing any kind of lesson when they're making an effort not to freak out, so...

He's snapped out of his reverie once more by the feeling of something being slipped over his ears. For a few moments he's too stunned to say anything, because those are Vector's headphones the crocodile has taken off and given to him, and the thought alone is so confusing that Espio struggles to process it.

It's not that he's never listened to Vector's music. In fact, Espio has heard enough of it for a lifetime and then some, because Vector is nothing if not enthusiastic about sharing his passions. He has yet to understand how anyone might listen to some of those songs willingly, because to him they're nothing but a cacophony of clashing sounds, but it's not as if he's banned it from the house.

He'd thought he'd made it clear, though, that Vector is to keep it for himself (and for Charmy, because whatever genre that stuff ascribes in, it gets the kid to sleep in no time, and while Espio is not above threatening his boyfriend at knifepoint to get him to lower the volume when Charmy's got the headphones on, he's not so stupid as to forbid anything that can knock a toddler bee out for good). The crocodile hasn't tried to force him to listen to that garbage in ages, so why now, of all days?

It seems he's in for a day of surprises, though. Before Espio can protest, Vector fiddles with the tape player and music fills his ears, leaving him shocked once again.

It's...not what Vector usually listens to. It's slower, for a start, quieter, with no voices screaming over one another. Espio can't recognize the instruments, nor the tune, but it flows in a way that catches his attention, almost mesmerizing after what he'd expected to hear in its place. It reminds him, oddly, of a lullaby, or of some tunes from his homeland, from when he was way, way younger.

"Been trying to find something you may like for a while now" Vector says, trying and failing to pretend that whatever's going on is not that big of a deal. "The album says it's supposed to be relaxing music. I don't know if it's your style, but you looked like you needed it."

"It's...it's nice" Espio replies.

To be honest, he's not sure he can judge the quality of the music right now, when there's so much going on behind it. If he were meaner than he is, or even just less exhausted, maybe he'd berate Vector for wasting time on a thing like that when they're supposed to be looking for paying jobs. He should be upset - he should say something more, at the very least.

As it stands, though, the gesture causes something inside him to break. It's as if he were made of clay, only needing the gentlest of pushes to be cracked and let fresh air filter in. His tongue feels like clay too, thick inside his mouth: as much as he wants to, he can't force the words to come out, and he just sits there, dumbfounded, listening to a song he doesn't know the name of roll through his brain.

Vector looks like he knows it, though. He smiles his trademark grin and sits beside Espio, wrapping an arm around the chameleon's shoulders.

"Come on, Esp, it's gonna be alright" he says, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. "We're going through a rough patch, but we'll get out of it, okay? We're a team. That's what we do."

Espio breathes in. Breathes out. He doesn't know if it's Vector, or the physical contact, or the soft chant still filling his ears, but the rumble of thoughts in his mind seems to quiet down a little. Not to the point that he's suddenly bursting with solutions to their problems, but enough to leave space for something slightly less pessimistic and just a tad more hopeful.

Vector goes on. If it's because he senses he's having success, or because he likes the sound of his own voice, Espio doesn't know, but he's not about to complain. He's too grateful for that. "We'll work it out together. You, me, and the little mite. Promise. On my honor as a detective."

Espio snorts at that, and the crocodile lets out an indignant noise, even though he looks clearly pleased by the effect that he's having. "Oh, come on. What will be of this agency, if no one’s respecting its boss?”

But his voice grows softer a moment later, and he tugs Espio closer. "We're gonna make it. We are. Alright?"

"Alright" Espio whispers, closing his eyes and leaning into the embrace. He's not sure he can stop worrying anytime soon, but the warm, cozy feeling of being cradled close to someone else and the lull of the music covering anything that's not Vector's voice form a small, safe bubble, one he's not about to burst until he can face the day head on. For a minute, he can allow himself to relax.

"Thank you."